Are You Okay?
by Acantha Rayne Oak-Moon
Summary: Mostly set during DH - Hermione receives an unexpected delivery from Dumbledore with a few surprise revelations and an very useful gift. How will it effect her time on the run with the boys? And her own personal future?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know, I know… I should be working on everything else that is stalled, paused or halted due to what I assumed was writer's block but I've managed this so maybe it's something else. I'm not exactly bored with my other stories but slightly indecisive as to how to move forward and there is nothing more scary than a blank screen.**

**Now, this little plot viper (my vipers eat bunnies for breakfast – I'm a Slytherin) was once again originally intended as a one shot but my desperate obsession with chapters, back story and details has taken over again and so while I intend to keep this relatively short (hopefully), I do need to write the journal of correspondence for throughout Deathly Hallows and then write my big dramatic ending and maybe an epilogue (we'll see).**

**Well without further ado…. Get reading and leave me a lovely review.**

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_30__th__ June 1997_

_In her third year, the year of too many classes, a time turner and the one time she missed a lesson due to sheer exhaustion, Hermione had been gifted a room by the Headmaster in order to travel back and forth. It sat, nestled behind an invisible door in the restricted section of the library and housed only the essential furniture: a study desk with a padded chair, an armchair, a coffee table and a single bed. Oh and the bookcase of course, with magical replicas of her books, including the notes in the margins and on the insides of each cover. It was perfect, exactly what she needed. Dumbledore really was amazing in the liberties allowed her._

_She had used it then for the extra study and sleep she had to keep hidden but once she stopped using the time turner, she used it as an escape. Days when she needed to get away from being pestered to help with homework, days when she needed to cry over some nasty comment from Draco Malfoy or Severus Snape. She'd spent almost every moment in her private little sanctuary when Ron made it his business to be all over Lavender, all the time._

_And now she sat in her little sanctuary, fear creeping, knotting her stomach and speeding up her heart. She knew something was about to happen, she just knew it, felt it in her bones; a sense of impending doom, deeper than the slow dull ache of impending doom that had settled in since Voldemort's return. Now, as news of Voldemort's movements trickled into the ranks of the Order, news of them gearing up to something, Hermione felt the need to retreat more and more. If anyone noticed her absences, it was never commented on and as Harry and Ron had never found her, she assumed Dumbledore had made it unplottable. Handy, very handy._

_She summoned her teapot and made fresh, black tea with the aquamenti charm, concentrating of hot water rather than the cold stuff that the charm naturally delivered. She knew Harry was off horcrux hunting with Dumbledore tonight; Ron was covering Quidditch training in his stead and she was presumed to be studying in the library – as usual. No one knew she was taking deep breaths and trying to calm her nerves over the package she had found on the desk when she walked in._

_It had to be from Dumbledore, no one else had access to the room. It was a smallish parcel, wrapped in purple sparkly parchment, which reminded Hermione of the Headmaster's robes, the first time she'd seen him. Whatever was inside these wrappings felt as though it was going to make her world shift somehow; he'd never sent her anything before, besides the rom itself; it had to be important._

"_Courage, Hermione. You're a Gryffindor, you can do this. Dumbledore wouldn't send me anything dangerous, would he?" she attempted to persuade herself, despite the growing trepidation._

"_This is ridiculous. It's probably a book."_

_With one last deep breath, she closed her eyes and tore off the purple parchment._

"_Well, that was the easy part. Now I just have to open my eyes and look at what it is."_

_As she opened her eyes, she realised it was in fact a book; just not a text book as she had presumed. A black leather bound journal sat upon the desk in front of her. Her friends didn't have very much luck with journals, she reminded herself, thinking back to her second year and the diary of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. _

'_Well I doubt he made two' she thought to herself as she tentatively picked it up and turned it over and around in her hands._

_It seemed to warm under her touch as she stared at the back cover and saw, engraved in gold letter H.J.G, her initials. It was remarkably similar to Tom Riddle's diary. She just hoped the aesthetic was wear the similarity ended. _

_She turned it back over so she could see the front cover and held it vertically in front of her and stared at it. She pressed her fingers deeper into the leather, unsure whether to open up the pages and leaf through them or not. The impending war had made her very cautious and extremely paranoid about anything she didn't have a full instruction manual for. _

"_What are you for?" she asked the book._

_It seemed to buzz in her fingertips, then glow before releasing an envelope._

_Her eyes fluttered from the book to the envelope… more purple and decided maybe this was the instruction manual, recognising her name in the Headmaster's familiar handwriting._

_She put the book down and picked up the envelope; her magic pulsed in her fingertips as she wandlessly unsealed the missive and unfolded the parchment._

Dear Miss Granger,

I hope this letter finds you well and its accompanying items are useful to you for whatever the future holds in store. I have found myself in a quandary of late; you have no doubt noticed the withering, blackened appearance of my hand at the staff table. It seems I suffered a small bout of foolishness and allowed my old habits of Gryffindor recklessness a modicum of freedom. The curse that has tainted my body will soon lead to the end of my life and with war approaching, I am afraid that in a weakened state, I shall do more harm than good.

Inside the journal that you have received is vial of memory, one of my own. Thanks to our illustrious potions master and the role he plays for both myself and Tom, I have managed to orchestrate a more dignified end than the curse would allow and this vial of memory will prove Severus's innocence when the time comes that he performs the deed I have requested of him. I have bound him with an Unbreakable Vow to kill me, knowing full well that Tom has requested this task of young Draco Malfoy. I will not allow Tom's darkness to tear anymore souls apart than he already has. The Death Eaters have already tainted the boy and I will protect every student in these walls until my last breath.

You are perhaps wondering why I am burdening you with this information and that is a very good question for you to ask. Miss Granger, you have supported our young Mr Potter for six long and difficult years, you have helped him to train and learn all he needs to know in order to survive; you are the voice of reason to his recklessness and your level head has kept him and Mr Weasley out of more trouble and scrapes than I am sure even I am aware of. With that in mind, you seem to be the sensible choice for me to bestow this knowledge upon.

I know you are a very straight forward person and so I will be as forthright as possible; I am also aware that you find comfort it lists; I am the same way and so here are the things you must know:

Within the next month I shall die by the wand of Severus Snape. He is not responsible for this act, I am. He has kept the curse which is killing me at bay for many long months so I may get my affairs in order. I know he is a difficult man to like, but please do not hate him. He does and endures more for the light than any other. No other could do what he does.

Draco Malfoy has been ordered to kill me by Tom Riddle. He has not been successful, nor shall I allow him to be successful. When this is all over, even if he gets closer please find a way to forgive him and make your peace with the Slytherins who have wronged you, as I have done.

If you would like to see the memory in the vial to prove the above words, there is a small pensieve placed under the bed in your private room. You know the charms to extract it back from the bowl.

Another thing that has been arranged between Severus and I is that when I am gone, with a little nudge from Tom's infiltrated Ministry; he shall be my successor as Headmaster of Hogwarts. He has assured me that Tom suggested this idea and we have agreed that it is the only way he will have enough pull within the school to protect without suspicions being raised.

I implore you to trust him. It will be difficult and you will have doubts. As I have said he is not the easiest man to like or trust and I know you have struggled with that in the past. However, I believe you have always respected his intellect and high standards and so I ask you to allow your trust to build from there. I will not taint your imaginings of him further with the things he has had to do to gain both my trust and Tom's but we both hold him in the highest esteem. Luckily for us, my trust is well placed. Trust him, Miss Granger. Trust him and do not allow Harry's anger when I am killed to bring about circumstances that will put Severus's life further in jeopardy. He walks a knife edge every day and Harry's wrath could slice Severus in two.

The journal then… I fear the time is nigh that you shall need it desperately. At present it is a way to communicate with myself, I have its twin. It is under the fidelius charm to which I am the secret keeper and the only people I have told of its existence are you and Severus and it must stay that way. Upon the occasion of my death, the role of secret keeper shall fall to both you and Severus and no one else must be aware of Severus's true role or the how you are obtaining information from each other. Anything you write shall appear it my copy and vice versa. It has been keyed to your magical signature so only you can see something other than blank pages but I have added a password to it also – Dolly Mixtures – a favourite of mine from the muggle sweet shops.

Well, there we have the end of your list, my dear. Hopefully you find it informative. I must leave you now as I am preparing to depart the castle with your young Mr Potter. I expect the contents of this letter to remain a secret and I am sure you understand the ramifications if they are not. I shall see you at breakfast in the Great Hall tomorrow… have the scrambled eggs if you have received this by then.

Yours sincerely

Albus Dumbledore.

_Hermione cast a concealing charm on the letter and placed it in the desk drawer, triple warding it – the worst of which makes the fingers burn with blisters if anyone touches that drawer. Highly unlikely as no one else knows of the room but still… constant vigilance._

_She picked up the diary again and closed her eyes._

"_Dolly Mi-"_

_She stopped as the DA galleon magically stuck to the inside of her left wrist warmed and she felt her skin tingle – a sign that there was an emergency. Sliding up the sleeve of her school robe she stared at the enchanted disk as if it were a watch as the lettering formed around the outside – DEATH EATERS IN CASTLE, UNDER ATTACK, HEAD FOR ASTRONOMY TOWER._

"_Shit!" she hissed into the empty room as she threw the journal into her bag, grabbed her wand and headed out into the library; checking her pocket for Harry's felix felicis, she ran towards the Death Eaters, knowing both Dumbledore and Harry were out of the castle and far, far away._

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**A/N: Now, my lovely friend Dash (a.k.a Tempest E Dashon, author of the amazing 'I Want a Storm' and the highly addictive 'Your Secret to Collect') has informed me, after proof-reading, that she requires more and the first entry in the journal to or from our lovely new Headmaster. Oh and to get to work 'Missy'. Can you believe she called me Missy… that's what my last cat was called. I suppose she can be forgiven considering she'll probably be my first reviewer.**

**Well hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review. Granted I write these things to get them out of my head but the reviews are a lovely bonus.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am back… with the latest instalment of this new and interesting take on 'if Hermione knew Snape was on the Order's side all along and was communicating with him too, what would happen?' My brain comes up with these questions in all sorts of places – the bath, at work (naughty me), meditating to a youtube video of a Slytherin Common Room ASMR (well, I suppose that one is more understandable). **

**As you may or may not be aware, I give my characters free reign to do as they please as long as they get me where I want the story to go. It takes longer and they talk back to me and do some very surprising things but I love them all the same.**

**With that I shall say... enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

Hermione spent several hours in the Gryffindor common room with her housemates after the discovery that Dumbledore had died. She knew it would be impossible to slip away unnoticed – it would be considered rude to vanish toward the library when the whole wizarding world was beginning to mourn. She had watched Harry chase Snape and Draco Malfoy off the Hogwarts grounds when the other Death Eaters fled, watched them apparate away on the other side of the gates in the faint greenish glow emanating from the smoky skull/snake Dark Mark that harrowingly illuminated Hogwarts.

As the sound of sobs filled the air around her, she wondered what was happening to the hated potions master and the pure-blooded git. Malfoy might be a completely bigoted arsehole but he was only 17 and it's not like he had a choice in being an elitist snob, it's how he was raised. And as for Snape, well, Hermione decided she'd feel the need to snap at everyone all the time too if she was in the position he was in.

The urge to write to him in her new journal, to check on them was overwhelming, but would Snape even have it yet and was he free to look for messages from her. She looked over to Harry; he was staring into the fire without blinking; she assumed he felt rather numb as he'd witnessed the Dumbledore's death. She decided to approach; he wasn't going to miss her in the state he was in and Ron was nowhere to be seen. It was as good a time as any.

"Harry…" she said softly as she reached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't move, still didn't blink.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be full of questions and uncertainty; I think you probably should too."

He blinked then and slowly turned his head to look at her. He seemed to think for a moment before nodding a little and getting up cautiously.

Every eye in the common room focused on the Boy Who Lived and his know-it-all muggleborn friend as they got up and headed toward the dormitories. It seemed everyone had been waiting for this as the rest of Gryffindor House followed moments later.

Just at the entrance to the sixth year dormitories, Hermione turned to her best friend…

"I need to go freshen up but I'll come and sleep in your dorm for the night if you need me to. I'm always here for you Harry; you're as good as a brother to me and whatever you need, I'm here for you. Okay?"

Harry threw his arms around his best friend's sides, trapping her arms with his and hugged her so tightly she felt her ribs might crack but she felt him nod and whisper a desperate "thank you".

His embrace lasted only about a minute before he released her.

"I just need about an hour to shower and get my things ready for tomorrow. Find Ron on the map if he's not in the dormitory; you need him too."

Harry nodded and disappeared into his dorm as Hermione made her way to her own.

* * *

Unfortunately, as she moved into her own room, Hermione realised that her dorm-mates, Lavender and Parvati were still awake and talking about if the school would have to close now Dumbledore was gone. Hermione's heart gave a painful twist at the reminder of his death – it was too easy to forget he wasn't in his office; he had always seemed so very omnipotent.

It was quite clear to Hermione that in the current circumstances, she was not going to have the opportunity to write to Snape where she was. She had to get out.

Having the brilliant mind that she did, Hermione took only five minutes to formulate a plan… summon Harry's cloak, slip it on and make her way to her library sanctuary. Everyone dealt with grief in their own way, right? Everyone would assume that she was simply throwing herself into books to deal with hers – it was completely within her character. Except she'd promised to go to the boys dorm.

_Well, I can go there until they fall asleep, have easier access to the cloak and get to the library before – _she checked her watch – _1am. It's not perfect but I sincerely doubt Snape is sleeping as hopefully by then whatever Death Eater business he has to deal with will befinished._

With her plan firmly set in place, Hermione gathered a fresh set of robes for the next day and took her pyjamas into the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth.

The lights were ominously off in the boy's sixth year dormitory when Hermione opened the door. She had assumed they would be up and waiting for her. It seems that was not the case. There was a light snoring with an occasional grunt coming from the bed of Dean Thomas, a gurgling, throat-clearing noise from the direction of where Seamus slept and Neville, well he was curled up in a ball, sobbing softly. Hermione assumed he had seen Bellatrix LeStrange earlier and was thinking of his parents. Harry's and Ron's beds were both suspiciously unwrinkled – it was very, very odd. Had Harry found Ron? Were they together? What if they were in trouble? Death Eaters had got into the castle after all; what if they were back?

All thoughts of her sanctuary and the journal temporarily ousted from her mind by panic over her grieving friends, Hermione wordlessly summoned the map with her wand and hurried toward the boys bathroom. It did not smell very pleasant and she almost tripped over a wet towel on the floor but she managed to skip and sat on the edge of the tub, lighting her wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." She whispered

* * *

It turned out that Harry had not, in all of his infinite wisdom, chosen to take the Invisibility Cloak with him as he wandered off around the now much less-secure castle. _Snape really does have a point sometimes – Harry can be a bloody dunderhead._ Nevertheless, Hermione took advantage of the cloak's availability and headed silently and unseen toward the Astronomy Tower.

The map had revealed the two indicator dots for the location of her best friends sitting very close together in the centre of the now infamous room of Dumbledore's final showdown - with Snape.

_When this is all over, I'll clear his name. They'll listen to me. If I'm still alive. Right?_

Hermione remained unseen all the way to the tower; the Auror's had cleared out hours ago and no one wanted to go back to the site of Dumbledore's death. _No one except my best bloody friends apparently._

She reached the top of the staircase and listened outside the door for a moment. Would she be interrupting their private grief if she just walked in? Even after all this time and a friendship forged in death defying situations, she still worried occasionally that she was the third wheel to Harry and Ron's bromance. She took a deep breath and reminded herself, as she heard a sniffle from the other side of the door, that the boys were her true friends, that they'd been through hell together, were going to go through more and that they needed her as much as she needed them.

She pushed the door open.

It took a moment to get her bearings, she couldn't see Harry or Ron; the columns holding up the ceiling, if it wasn't magic doing that, afforded a great many hiding places and barriers in the circular room.

She knew she should announce herself, this felt like spying (again her thoughts turned to Snape) or at lease eavesdropping. Just as she was about to cough to announce her presence, she heard something that made her heart and breath stop simultaneously…

A slobbery, smacking sort of sound that she recognised as… kissing?

_No! That's… not… possible._

Her brain didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it. She'd have known. She'd have at least suspected. Her world caved for a moment as she heard a slight moan in Ron's distinct tone, followed by a muttered "fuck", muffled against lips… _that was definitely Harry's voice. Oh God, I can't listen to this; I can't witness this._

Before it was too late and she saw more than occlumency would ever be able to wipe from her brain, if she ever learned it, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

All sound and movement stopped. She could imagine their faces as they both looked at whatever column was concealing them the other side of where she was stood; both wide eyed, fear showing behind the shock, mouths hanging open as they considered who they'd have to hex. She left it a moment to teach them a lesson for being stupid enough to get caught and then put them out of their misery. There was enough misery already, she rationalised.

"Harry? Ron?" she asked, innocently.

"Hermione?" They responded simultaneously, incredulity in both of their voices.

She heard a quick scuffling as she assumed robes were being straightened.

"Yeah, it's me. Where are you?"

"We're over by the giant telescope." Harry replied, his voice still a little shaky. Hermione hid her smirk.

"Where are _you_?" Asked Ron.

"Under the cloak and heading over to you. I found you with the map." She responded matter-of-factly. "You know you really shouldn't leave this things lying around. Anyone could have gotten to them."

"We're the only ones who know about them." Harry said defensively as Hermione revealed herself.

"That's not true and you know it." Hermione responded in a tone that said 'and that's final'. "Now, what are you doing up here? I'd have thought this is the last place you'd wanna come."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and then back to Hermione before looking down a little pink in the cheeks.

"Well, we… erm…" Harry started.

"The thing is… we were… well, I was erm… upset."

"Yeah, he was. I found Ron on the map and decided to come up here and sit with him a bit."

All of this was said very quickly. She figured that much was true and while she was deciding whether to let them off the hook or not for not giving her the full story, if she'd determined it correctly, Ron made her demanding answers less necessary.

"Hermione, I know we've been dancing around each other for a while but the truth is…"

"It's okay Ron, I understand. You don't have to say it." _Please don't say it!_

"No! No, I do need to say it. I need to say it for myself and I need to say it so Harry knows I'm happy with who I am too."

Hermione nodded. What could she do other than be a supportive friend? Even though her heart broke as Ron's revelation erupted.

"The thing is… I'm… well… I'm…"

Hermione nodded again; putting on her most understanding and supportive smile.

Ron closed his eyes, took a deep breath and charged in like a true Gryffindor.

"Hermione, I'm gay."

Harry's face morphed into pure, unadulterated delight, smile beaming as he grabbed Ron and kissed him square on the lips in a show of solidarity.

"You too then, Harry?" Hermione asked as she watched her two best friends.

Harry gave an embarrassed little laugh and nodded.

"Well…" Hermione began, being the magnanimous soul she was, "I'll leave you to it then. I just came up here to check you were both ok. I'm going to head to the library to think for a while. A lot of things are gonna change now, with the war and I need to start planning. Enjoy your time together, make a few memories to hold on to for when things get bad; make them for decent patronuses. We're all going to need that. I'll leave you the cloak and map so you can get back. I love you both."

She handed the cloak and map to Harry and quickly darted out of the room.

* * *

_Oh Merlin. I didn't see that coming. How do I even get my head around this? _Hermione thought as she headed as quickly and quietly as she could toward the library, her heart in tatters and her head spinning with annoying images of Harry and Ron joined at the lips.

_How could they do this to me? Well, I suppose they didn't do it to me, they did it to each other. I wonder how far they've… no, NO! I don't want to know. Harry was so crazy about Ginny this year though… does she know? If she knows why didn't she tell me? _

She shook her head and attempted to clear her mind. She needed to get to the library, into her room, her sanctuary where she could calm down, think things through and more importantly, check on Snape.

_He must be in hell after having to kill Dumbledore. I have to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Anyone would feel guilty after that; I'd be beside myself, especially being surrounded by people who assume I'm happy with myself for doing it. Is he smirking? I bet he has to put on one of those self-satisfied expressions that only Slytherins seem to think are justified in horrible circumstances._

Just as she turned off the stairwell into the first floor corridor, she saw a blur of scabby fur and red eyes – _Mrs Norris._

"Shit." Hermione whispered and ran down her last corridor toward the library, disillusioning herself as she went.

She made it to the portrait of her library sanctuary just as Argus Filch entered the large double doors at the entrance. She whispered her password and practically flew into the room, down the short corridor and dived onto the bed, throwing her bag down with her as she caught her breath.

It took about ten minutes to regain her equilibrium. Finally, with her breath and heart both in a more acceptable rhythm, she sat at the small desk and summoned the journal from her bag.

_Here we go… _she thought selecting a self-inking quill from the desk and beginning to write.

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_Are you okay?_

_I'm not sure how soon you'll be able to read this; I assume your life just took a much more treacherous turn; as if you didn't have enough to deal with? For what it's worth, which at the moment probably doesn't seem like much, if anything, I am worrying about you. Knowing the truth makes me care for your safety and pray for your health and continued existence… not because of your role and your allegiance and because you have probably saved my life and Harry's a thousand times over but because you shouldn't have to do it alone. _

_I can imagine that you feel very alone right now, when you're not occluding. I imagine you feel like no one cares if you, the real you, the you underneath all of the vows and information, the you who loves potions and wearing black and takes sadistic pleasure in taking points and giving detentions with a smirk like you always know better; I imagine that you feels alone right now, alone and hiding. I do not wish to be impertinent sir but I hope I can help you to feel even marginally less alone. I will stay strong for you, I will always find a way to listen to you but I need a promise from you… it's nothing like others would ask of you… it's just… please… please… please don't die._

_Your favourite insufferable know-it-all,_

_Hermione Granger._

_P.S: Admit it, you smirked at that._

Hermione checked over her words again and then cast the spell to send them to the other journal, realising just as they disappeared that a tear had blurred the second 'please' in her missive.

"Well, maybe it'll melt his iciness toward me a little if he knows I care about him enough to cry for his safety. Although I doubt it."

She spent the next few minutes tidying up and reading herself for sleep before slipping into the single bed and determinedly forbidding her mind to think about Harry and Ron, or what they were doing.

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**A/N: Wow, this really didn't go where I expected. Well, it did but with the addition of Harry and Ron; that little development was not expected when I began this chapter.**

**I was not planning to go so emotional on the letter either but I decided to really put myself in Hermione's shoes (or head) for it and even though it would have been much easier and closer to mu original plot to just but 'Are you okay?', I decided that she would go full steam ahead, assuming it was very supportive, a mode she felt stuck in because of Harry and Ron.**

**Well, I do hope you enjoyed this latest instalment. Next up will hopefully be a Snape put of view… watch this space. Please, please, please review… it makes me so happy to wake up to an increased review count. **

**Love and Blessings**

**Moon Out!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **

**To my dear readers, followers, reviewers and favouriters from all countries, age groups and houses. I am delighted to be back with another instalment of this unexpected and unplanned little nest of plot vipers. I had planned to work on For the Love of Snape today but it was requested by my lovely friend and idea collaborator, Dash, that I continue with this… so if you would prefer to be reading FTLOS, please send your messages c/o Tempest E Dashon. And when you find her, check out her stories as well… 'Your Secret to Collect' (Tomione) and 'I Want a Storm' (Sevione and Thraco) are both fantastically well written with captivating stories. There are a couple of shorter stories on there too which are complete and worth a read.**

**Well I'm done being nice to my friends, I am a Slytherin after all, can't let my horns shrink and my halo show too much. I have a reputation to uphold. On with the show…**

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Chapter 3

Fleeing Hogwarts after killing Albus was something Severus Snape had been dreading quite a while. Living it was worse than he could have imagined. It was bad enough having to kill his mentor, his friend, his saviour in the first place but to have that egregiously followed by Potter's curses which had to be deflected whilst on the run, all the time sneering at the hatred the boy displayed, playing the triumphant Death Eater and getting Draco to _safety_, was just more than he could fathom.

_And so it begins_, he thought to himself, landing at the gates to Malfoy Manor. _The lines are drawn, the loyalties confirmed._

He tightened his occlumency shields and mentally repeated the mantra he used to settle into his Death Eater persona. It was a chore for a proud man, such as him, to bow and kneel before a megalomaniac, to submit to ideals he himself found repugnant and so he pulled on three archetypes to maintain his persona… Lucius Malfoy (cold, elitist and sneering); Thorfinn Rowle (stoic, impassable, strong); and Tom Riddle himself (cunning, deadly, obsessive).

The last thing he had to find to truly be considered the most loyal of Death Eaters was humility; to humble himself before the Dark Lord was the hardest part of finding his inner Death Eater. He allowed old memories to surface of when he had truly felt humble; unworthy and as much as he loathed it… simpering. The memory always made a hard knot of guilt twist in his gut but it worked - on his knees outside the portrait of the Fat Lady in 1976, begging Lily Evans to forgive him for being so damn unworthy of her.

_Ironic, given her muggle heritage that it is her who allows me to be so convincing as one of the Dark Lord's sycophant fanatics._

He locked that thought, along with his grief over the loss of Albus and the memories of every Order meeting for the last two years, away and took Draco's arm as he brought them through the Manor wards.

"Are you ready for this, Draco?" Severus asked his godson sombrely. "I can't promise what _his_ reaction will be that it was I who completed this mission."

"I can handle it." The young blond Death Eater responded but fear laced every syllable.

"Start occluding now. Let me do the talking." Snape said in his harshest 'Professor-tone'.

"Yes sir." Draco said for a moment of brevity before pulling his occlumency shields into place. It was very useful to have a godfather such as Severus Snape.

They approached the large ash doors, ornately carved with constellations and snakes. Draco did not feel like he was coming home as he opened the front door, he rarely came to the Manor through the front door, it was usually via floo or the apparition foyer but circumstances had forced this entrance and it made the young Malfoy heir uneasy.

Severus allowed his godson to precede him into the ancient house of Malfoy, currently infested with the ancient house of Slytherin. The Malfoy's had their faults and failings, more than anyone knew about but it seemed an undeserved plight to be saddled playing host to the Heir of Slytherin for the last two years. If the Heir had been anyone else Severus was sure Lucius would have seen it as an honour. Unfortunately, it was Tom Riddle and hosting Tom Riddle practically made you a prisoner in your own home. Severus knew it wouldn't take much persuasion to get them to deflect. He just had to go about it the right way.

Draco led Severus through the manor towards what was once the old drawing room; it was now reinvented as a 'throne room' for the despot currently squatting on the ancestral Malfoy lands.

They approached the door cautiously. It was never wise to approach the Dark Lord with complacency. Yes, Dumbledore was dead but that did not guarantee a good mood on Tom Riddle's part.

"Be still Bella." Came the high pitched shriek of their Masters voice. "If I have to tell you one more time, you feel the wrath of my…"

The door creaked open, betraying their attempt at a stealthy entrance.

Silence reigned as Voldemort surveyed the new arrivals.

Severus took in the scene. Voldemort, twenty feet away on his _throne_, Bellatrix kneeling at her master's left knee, stroking his robes like a cat would brush against a beloved owner; the remainder of the room was empty.

Draco wondered where his parents were but externally was a statue – he didn't move, he barely breathed, just waited.

Severus waited too, for the miniscule nod of his master's head, indicating he should approach. He did so, slowly, head bowed. Draco followed.

"Ahhh, Ssseveruss! Draco! Your arrival could not be more timely. Save me from this menace of a witch.

_Takes one to know one._ Severus thought on the safe side of his occlumency shields as Draco smirked at his aunt.

"I believe her to be more unhinged even than yesterday." He turned toward the witch. "I mean it, Bella, keep your hands to yourself or next time I will not be so lenient with my wand."

"Yes, my Lord." Bella muttered, sullen as if being told she couldn't have a cookie.

"Really, Aunt Bella? What about Uncle Rod?" Draco asked quietly, his eyes barely catching the deranged black pools that glowered at him for the impertinence of being questioned.

"Sometimes a witch needs more snake than wizard, nephew." She cackled. "And I'm afraid my husband just doesn't… measure up."

Draco turned rather green and fought the gagging sensation at the back of his throat as his stomach tried to expel its contents. Severus chose not to react, regardless of how easy it would have been to snort.

"Too much information, Aunt Bella."

The dark witch only smirked and turned lustful eyes back to her snakish master.

"Enough of this nonsssenssse." The Dark Lord hissed, fighting his own bile at the very idea.

He gave only a moment for everyone in the room to be suitably cowed before he turned to Severus.

"What newssss, Severussss? Issss it done?" The snaking hiss of Voldemort asked his _most loyal follower _with an almost open expression of excitement and anticipation.

"It is done, my Lord." Severus responded, feeling sick himself as he forced a smirk onto his face. "Dumbledore is no more."

"Excellent. Young Draco here ssucceeded in his mission then? Congratulationssss, on your first kill!"

"It was I, my Lord, who cast the killing curse. Draco got the old fool cornered, disarmed him. I reached the tower at that moment and took advantage of-" Severus dropped every drop of venom into his voice to sell the rest, "the blood traitor bastard in his moment of weakness. He was not expecting my appearance, he considered me his spy, and not yours, my Lord; his lifeless body fell from the Astronomy Tower."

"And how high is the Astronomy Tower Severus? Are you quite sure he is dead? The old bastard, as you call him is tricky."

"He is most definitely dead, my Lord. The crack of his skull hitting the cobbles below was most satisfying and I saw the body as I left the grounds."

"Very well," Voldermort said as a smirk appeared below the slits of his non-existent nose. "Tonight we shall celebrate the fall of Harry Potter's last defender. Draco, gather your parents; Bella, go round up your husband and brother-in-law to find some entertainment for tonight. I believe the revels are in order."

Draco and Bellatrix scrambled to comply with their Master's orders while Severus awaited his own. He could scarcely imagine what a reward might be for completing such an important task for the Dark Lord. He mirrored Voldemort's expression which he interpreted as a combination of triumph and delight. It was rather hideous to behold.

Once they were alone, Voldemort beckoned Severus to approach and take a seat at his right side.

"Quite the accomplishment, Severuss. I am almost jealous of it."

"Thank you My Lord. It was my pleasure, believe me."

"I am sure it was. The school will be yours come Ssseptember; the Carrows will be joining you."

"Thank you again. I look forward to turning that damn gargoyle at the entrance to my new office into a serpent."

A wheezing rasping gurgle escaped Voldemort. Severus knew it to be a laugh although it was barely recognisable as such.

"Always so loyal Severus. Are you returning to Hogwarrrtsss tonight?"

"I had not planned on it but if you need me to…"

"No, no… I think you would rather stay for the entertainment. I will leave you to your own amusements this evening. The revel will start at 10. Don't be late."

"My Lord." Severus said with a nod before rising and departing the room.

* * *

Severus took his leave, heading for his own private suite at Malfoy Manor. Being named Godfather to the only Malfoy heir had its advantages - luxury beyond the wildest dreams of a poor half-blood boy from Cokesworth.

He cast a quick Tempus charm… 1am.

"Shower and sleep… if it'll come."

By 2am, Severus was staring at the intricately carved ceiling, decorated with jade snakes, inlaid with silver filigree; they slithered, coiled and writhed above his head in a mesmerising rhythm. Severus's eyes began to feel heavy.

He was close to sleep - another minute, that's all it would take - when he sensed a ripple of familiar magic; light but powerful, golden and purple energy that glowed and shimmered all around the room and his person before settling and dispersing into nothing.

He opened his eyes, alert but unmoving. The magic had felt like Albus's. It wasn't possible. Couldn't be possible but he had felt that energy around him for almost thirty years. He'd know it anywhere.

"Albus?" He whispered.

There was no reply.

He sat up and lit his wand; never out of his hand, not now.

As he sat, something fell from his body to the floor… a book.

He looked down at the plain leather bound journal as it lay on the floor. Confusion marring his features.

_What has that manipulative bastard done now?_

He may lay on his opinions of Dumbledore a little thick for his serpentine 'boss' downstairs but they weren't wholly inaccurate.

With it still on the floor, he cast several spells at it to reveal hidden magics… the magic hummed but revealed nothing other than its presence.

"Hmmmm…"

He scowled at it first as if it had Albus's face blowing raspberries at him on the front cover and saying, 'one last thing Severus, old boy'.

Severus Snape huffed a great exasperated breath at the imagined statement in light yet steely tones below twinkly eyes and half-moon spectacles and picked up the book.

A journal. He turned it over in his hands, unknowingly mirroring the actions of its twin's recipient.

"What is it this time, Albus?"

Just as with Hermione's journal, at the sound of Severus's voice, a purple envelope slipped from the pages.

With shrewd eyes, he looked down where the envelope had landed on his lap.

_Idiot man. Charming this to reach me anywhere other than the school was just bad planning. _

He flicked his wand at the door, warding it against all visitors and throwing an extra ward down the corridor beyond so he had time to conceal whatever this was if he was alerted to company coming.

Taking out his frustration out on the envelope, he ripped it harshly. A single parchment fell out. Taking a deep breath, Severus began to read.

_Oh Severus, dear boy,_

_If you are reading this then I am very sad to say that my time has come to an end. It would be a blessing to be able to say, at my time of life that I am leaving this world with all I ever wanted… sadly; I was blinded in a quest which took me away from the things that should have been most important. Rather than concentrating on love, family and friends, my focus was drawn to power in my youth and I have been paying my dues ever since to right my wrongs. We are very much in the same boat with that mind set Severus and so I have provided you a way to ease your burdens and fulfil the debt you feel you owe to Lily Potter._

_The journal that accompanies this missive has a twin. That twin is in the possession of Hermione Granger. Now, Severus, don't roll your eyes at me; you may find her insufferable but she is intelligent, shrewd and has cunning worthy of any Slytherin – remember Dolores Umbridge? She is a connection to the other side which with my death you are completely cut off from. Use that connection Severus and help to save the Wizarding World. Be the man you should have been and when this war is over, live, love and be happy. I make this my dying wish Severus. You are like a son to me; perhaps a grandson if it feeds your vanity and as such I wish you to find comfort and peace in your life once the hard work is over. Miss Granger is a rock of courage, confidence and magical power… even at the tender age of eighteen she is a beacon of hope and hopefully a level head able to withstand your moods and grouchiness._

_I have a second offering for you in this 'under the Ministry radar' bequeathment – when you first open the journal, my wand shall be yours. The elder wand is as the legend describes but it is too valuable and will be too vulnerable if buried in my tomb. A replica has been on my person for the past year, on the off chance that Mr Malfoy's mission was successful; the true elder wand is now yours. As the closest thing I have to an heir, whom else would I leave such a thing to?_

_My official last will and testament will take a while to come to light but it is filled with more curiosities than the Ministry will be able to discern… you shall be the proud owner of my personal library when the time comes for my possessions to be divided between loved ones. There is a stipulation that ten percent of said collection is to be given to Miss Granger, I'm sure you can come to some arrangement. And lastly, anything Madam Pince would specifically like for the school library, please make replications, using the enhanced Gemino charm we created._

_Finally, Severus, I wish to say thank you. You have been a loyal and discreet member of the Order of the Phoenix, you have put yourself in harm's way year after year for the greater good and I am eternally grateful for the sacrifices you have made. I will watch over you from the other side and wish you every hope, luck and happiness for the war and the days after it._

_Yours_

_Albus_

_P.S. The password for the journal is 'Gryffindor'. Stop scowling._

Severus gave a weary sigh.

"Damn it Albus. Stop meddling."

Another sigh and he summoned a firewhiskey bottle and glass from the small bed chamber bar, poured a generous three finger measure and necked it back, placing the bottle and glass of the bedside table.

"Don't go anywhere," he said to the bottle, "I'm going to need you."

The journal lay innocently on the charcoal comforter of his ebony four poster bed. Black leather, his initials glinting in silver lettering, engraved into the soft cover.

_Albus why did you do this to me? Granger is insufferable. She's never going to leave me alone with incessant questions and irrational jumping to conclusions. How am I ever going to convince her to back the fuck off and give me breathing space? I suppose ignoring her is easier in this form but she's still an insufferable know-it-all even in a book._

The third sigh was the most reigned, put-upon sound to ever leave his lips; he was sure of it.

"Well, I suppose I'd best get this over with."

He picked up the book and ground out the password through gritted teeth.

There was a thrum of magic, a glow and the pages fidgeted in his loose hold.

'_Dear Professor Snape,_

"Dear am I now? Interesting."

_Are you okay?_

"For now. Why do you care?"

_I'm not sure how soon you'll be able to read this; I assume your life just took a much more treacherous turn; as if you didn't have enough to deal with? _

He snorted in disgruntled agreement.

_For what it's worth, which at the moment probably doesn't seem like much, if anything, I am worrying about you. Knowing the truth makes me care for your safety and pray for your health and continued existence… _

"What truth? What has Albus been telling you? And even your little bleeding Gryffindor heart can't save me now, know-it-all.

_..not because of your role and your allegiance and because you have probably saved my life and Harry's a thousand times over but because you shouldn't have to do it alone. _

"Not alone… hmmm? Why? Are you thinking of joining the death eaters to comfort me? Care to join the revels tonight Miss Granger?"

'Gods, I'm a bastard.' He thought to himself as an unwanted image of the Brightest Witch of her Age, insufferable as she was, entered his mind; naked, spread eagle, tied to the Dark Lords throne , Voldemort holding her still as the death eater's took their turns with her.

"A sick bastard."

_I can imagine that you feel very alone right now, when you're not occluding. _

"Know it all…" he sneered.

_I imagine you feel like no one cares if you, the real you, the you underneath all of the vows and information… _

"There hasn't been a real me almost twenty years Miss Granger. Even I don't know the real me."

…_the you who loves potions and wearing black and takes sadistic pleasure in taking points and giving detentions with a smirk like you always know better; _

He smirked.

"Oh, that real me."

_I imagine _that_ you feels alone right now, alone and hiding. _

"Perhaps…"

_I do not wish to be impertinent sir…_

"But you can't help it?" he asked the journal with his trademark signature eyebrow raised.

…_but I hope I can help you to feel even marginally less alone. _

'Doubtful.'

_I will stay strong for you, I will always find a way to listen to you but I need a promise from you…_

"More promises?"

_It's nothing like others would ask of you… it's just… please… please… please don't die._

"I fear you may be disappointed with the outcome on that score but I will try my best. I will try."

_Your favourite insufferable know-it-all,_

Snape rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk lilting his lips.

_Hermione Granger._

_P.S: Admit it, you smirked at that.'_

"Damn insufferable, impertinent know-it-all, Gryffindor witch. Of all the… cheeky, insubordinate little..." He growled as the smirk dropped.

He wandlessly and wordlessly refilled his drink and knocked it back.

Twice.

_Great! Now, not only do I have to contend with the little bitch of Gryffindor but deal with her pity as well and her damn begging and insistence, not to die. Like that's so easy as a double spy in a war against a psychotic magical genius with tendencies toward homicidal rage. She thinks I'm bloody Superman. What the hell did you tell her, Albus?_

_On the other hand, at least she cares and having her beg was rather enjoyable. Another Gryffindor muggleborn caring for me. I wonder how I'll screw this one up._

He grimaced at that thought.

_Well I suppose I'd better write back otherwise she'll never leave me alone._

Taking a quill from inside his robes and a pot of red ink he usually used for slashing through incompetent essays whilst marking, he began.

_Miss Granger,_

_Your concern is noted. I shall try my best not to die but I assure you that if I succeed it will be for my benefit and not yours. _

_This arrangement between us that has been set up by Albus, what has he told you in regards to my duties and vows? I need to know what you have been told, how prepared you are for this assignment. _

_This journal will be for relevant information only. If you find a horcrux, I need to know, if you destroy one, I need to know, if you or the others are attacked or hurt, I need to know. I do not want to know about Potter's whining or Weasley's oafish behaviours. I have had to put up with such nonsense for six years already. If you are capable of this Miss Granger… short, concise and to the point._

He considered how to sign off the letter… 'Professor Snape' seemed too formal as they were now colleagues for the Order of the Phoenix, albeit deeeep under cover; 'Severus' felt too informal as they'd never discussed it and he wasn't sure he could manage calling her _Hermione_.

He looked back over her missive and sign off and a smirk curled his lip as he finished his letter.

_Your favourite Greasy Git_

_S. T. Snape_

_P.S. I did not smirk._

Now, he smirked, before casting the spell to send his missive.

_Time for some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day. Occlude. Don't think of the revels before bed; don't think of the revels before bed._

Severus readied himself for sleep at 4am, pulled on his occlumency shields and drifted into a dreamless sleep. He'd grieve after the war.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not quite sure what to say at the end of this one so I will start by addressing my lovely friend Dash… she who insisted I write this chapter. She picked up in private conversation that how I am planning this out has become something of self-challenge. I plan to have at least one anti-canon thing happen in each chapter (Chapter 1, Albus leaving the journal; Chapter 2, Harry and Ron; Chapter 3, the bequeathment of the Elder Wand), some will be bigger than others, like what I have planned for Chapter 4. The next rule of my self-challenge is to have at least one journal entry in each chapter (excluding chapter 1 which was set up) and the words 'are you okay?' obviously in this one it is a repeat of Hermione's journal entry but eventually he'll ask her too – I think. It's really up to him.**

**If there is anything anti-canon you specifically want me to try and change, please let me know in reviews, I'll do what I can. Little things will change anyway due to previous changes but there will be one solid 'I changed this for this chapter' in each update. Chapter 4 is gonna be a big one unless it changes again as it was going to be the change for this chapter until Dash mentioned the wand thing.**

**Well that is all for now I think. Please leave reviews, I love reviews, they're like ink in my quill, magic in my wand, and grease in my Snape hair.**

**Love and Blessings until next time**

**Moon Out!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: First things first, I have a message from Severus for one of my lovely reviewers; in case you were wondering, we have drinks every Friday night.**

**Message:**

'**Dear Miss Black. Thank you so much for your comment that I am bloody Superman but it should be perfectly obvious to you as well as everyone else, that our dear author, Ms Moon, was mistaken in mentioning Superman. I am clearly not Superman. I'm Batman. Thank you for your years of devotion, I understand your plight very well. SS'**

**With that missive passed on, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It went from a very simple plot viper for a story which had a magical journal passing messages between Hermione and Snape during the war as a way for them to fall in love to one of my most treasured works so far and it seems I am not the only one - 25 reviews over three chapters. I feel truly blessed. Without further ado, I continue…**

* * *

Chapter 4

In the warm, comfortable haze between dreams and consciousness, Hermione's mental faculties began to stir. She began the habitual to-do-list for the day to come, ignoring the unimportant things such as meals; focusing only on what was necessary – lessons!

_Wednesday - Double Herbology first – homework on Manticore/Mandrake hybridisation done, first practical hybridisation session today, must remember ear-muffs; free session – go the library, find books on advanced Transfiguration, revise animagus transformation; after lunch, Defence Against the… Snape! Oh God, Dumbledore's dead. Snape… Snape killed him._

Her throat constricted with the flood of memories as they slotted into the forefront of her mind; tears fell unashamedly and she wailed from the secret depths of the library. Secure in the fact that she could break down completely alone and then go and be strong for Harry… and Snape, she let go. She needed to be strong for them both; the war had really started now and she knew it would only be a matter of time until the relative safety that Albus Dumbledore's presence had provided would now melt into non-existence as surely as the man himself did.

She sat bolt upright in the single bed of her library getaway room and embraced her emotional breakdown whole heartedly, the tears rolled down her face like a waterfall of turmoil at the memories of the previous day. It felt as if she had been holding that dam secure for a century and finally it was free. Dumbledore's death, even if it was planned, was still so very sad and so terribly dangerous with Voldemort alive and plotting; Ron choosing Harry over her, even Harry choosing Ron, she was never interested in Harry romantically but it was all the more reason for her to feel like a third wheel now.

Then… Snape; she didn't quite know what to feel about this new position she had been placed in with him… she was sure he was going to be acidic but at least he's had time to get used to the idea, discuss it with Dumbledore. Hermione felt as though she had been catapulted into trusting a man whose pre-disposition had always felt closer to hate and disdain and now she had to find a way to be completely honest with him and bare his honesty in return.

She shuddered at the very thought and dragged herself out of bed to use the small facilities the room afforded her.

Thirty minutes later she was freshened and feeling marginally better, having locked her emotions inside some marvellously adept occlumency shields she didn't know she possessed.

_I wonder where they came from. Maybe I'm just a natural occlumens and it's taken sever emotional trauma to bring them out? Could Snape or Dumbledore have somehow trained me in occlumency and then obliviated me – the auto-response to shield would be ingrained that way even if I don't remember the process. Bastards – how dare they obliviate me? I'll be having words with Snape about that. Greasy git! Shit, I'd better check the journal…_

Unwilling to rummage, Hermione summoned the leather book from her beaded bag and settled on the bed to read his words.

_Miss Granger,_

"No dear… well I suppose common courtesy would be asking a lot."

_Your concern is noted. I shall try my best not to die but I assure you that if I succeed it will be for my benefit and not yours._

She snorted.

"Self-preservation. So damn Slytherin. Well as long as you live I don't care who you do it for and I'll tell you so too. Miserable bastard. Merlin help me, how am I going to do this indefinitely."

_This arrangement between us that has been set up by Albus, what has he told you in regards to my duties and vows? I need to know what you have been told, how prepared you are for this assignment. _

"Are you panicking Professor? Are you concerned by my preparedness?" Hermione said to the missive as if Snape were I its place.

"Aww, how sweet" Sarcasm dripped in her tone as she snorted again at his lack of faith in her. "How prepared am I? It's like you've never met me."

_This journal will be for relevant information only. If you find a horcrux, I need to know, if you destroy one, I need to know, if you or the others are attacked or hurt, I need to know. I do not want to know about Potter's whining or Weasley's oafish behaviours. I have had to put up with such nonsense for six years already. If you are capable of this Miss Granger… short, concise and to the point._

"Yes sir." She said saluting the journal, sarcasm palpable in each syllable.

_Your favourite Greasy Git_

Hermione burst into completely genuine and undeniably shocked laughter. "Oh Snape…" she sighed as she regained herself, "There may just be hope for you yet.

_S. T. Snape_

"Hmmm… I wonder what the 'T' stands for. What would sound right… T names, T names… Theodore, Timothy, Trevor," she snorted, thinking of Neville's toad.

"Severus Trevor Snape? Nah, doesn't sound right; Severus Timothy Snape… nope still not right. Severus Theodore Snape? Maybe. He could be Nott's Godfather or something. Maybe I'll ask him."

_P.S. I did not smirk._

"Just mentioning that means you smirked. If you hadn't then it wouldn't be worth telling me, you wouldn't justify it. The fact that you did leads me to believe, Professor, that I, Hermione Granger, insufferable know it all extraordinaire, managed amuse you. Ha!"

* * *

Hermione summoned her self-inking quill from the desk and turned to the next page to begin her reply. She would stay as concise as possible to placate his overbearing need for minimal fuss but she was simply incapable of short amounts of writing – there were just too many delicious, emotive, evocative words that could be applied and displayed. As for 'to the point', well there would be a point in there somewhere, she presumed, otherwise what would be the _point _of writing in the first place.

_To my favourite greasy git,_

_Are you okay? Thank you for responding in such a timely manner; I didn't think you'd be able to. I was asleep when the message came through otherwise I would have responded immediately… perhaps we should begin dating these correspondence so we know when they come through. _

_I am aware that if you survive this war which is now bearing down on us heavily, it will not be for my benefit but if you do I shall be glad of it nonetheless. You're sneers, smirks and billowing of robes are as imprinted on my childhood as Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, lemon drops and that spider that always fell from his hat. You are as situated in the furniture of Hogwarts to me as my adventures with the boys and my run-ins with Malfoy. To me, there's no Hogwarts without you Professor – the dungeons would be so light and cheerful without you… we can't have that now, can we?_

_You may have noticed that I plan to ignore your request for short messages. You brought it upon yourself I'm afraid in requesting I do such a thing. I have been raised and conditioned to disobey you at all costs; having friends like Harry Potter and the Weasley twins has interesting side-effects, don't you think? In matters of Order business, I will of course try my hardest to supress this urge. _

_Speaking of Order business, you asked how much I have been told in regards of your duties and my preparedness for this mission. Here I will keep to your request for concise – I have been informed of your true loyalties and certain promises made to Albus Dumbledore. I know I am your liaison with the Order and that information must remain completely and irrevocably secret, as if it didn't exist at all. I have been told that you and I are the eye of the storm; the support that will lift Harry up to do what must be done and help him in crushing snake-face when the time comes. I could not ask for a better partner in this mission and I trust you implicitly, despite what I may show outwardly to the world. Know that Snape, know it and believe it. I have complete faith in you and it cannot and will not be shaken no matter how you choose to take out your frustration in acerbic comments. _

_Maybe that wasn't so concise after all but you know I'm incapable of anything less than 5 five feet of parchment on a two feet essay. I will try harder. Maybe. Will I get points if I can drop it down to three feet?_

_You asked about my preparedness for this mission… you have met me right? When am I not prepared? I am perhaps being insubordinate in saying so but to be honest you're a Death Eater and you killed Albus Dumbledore so you really don't have a leg to stand on. And, yes I know it was his idea and he was dying anyway; I know that you respected him as a mentor and a friend, maybe even a father-figure and I do not blame you for anything that happened and if it ever comes to a trial for these things, know that I will stand for you but I need to get my digs in where I can. After being such a git to me for six years, a girl gets to have a little payback… suck it up, Professor._

_Well, I will end this missive now except to promise that will not moan too much or too often about the boys; I know they grate on your nerves. They do on mine most of the time too… think about it from my perspective, I practically live with them. That should make you shudder. As a thank you for supplying you with that mental image would you concede to settling a curiosity about your name…? I am currently obsessed with what the 'T' stands for. My best guess is Theodore, maybe it's your father's name. That makes me try to imagine you as a little boy - my turn to shudder – I'm picturing little black robes now that swish as a one year old Severus Snape attempts his first billow; that makes me smile rather than shudder. I don't suppose it's that important for you to tell me but I would like to know._

_Well I suppose I will leave you to your other duties. I'll let you know when Professor Dumbledore's funeral is. I doubt it would be a good idea for you to intend but I'm sure I can shed a tear on your behalf. I might even spell my robes to billow in your stead. Look after yourself; even if it's not because I'm asking, I want you to know I would feel the loss if something happened to you._

_Best insufferable know-it-all you'll ever know, short and concise as ever…_

_Yours_

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. You absolutely smirked and you are doing it again now. I can practically taste it._

Hermione read over the words twice, smirking to herself that she was being overly sarcastic, extremely familiar and much less informal than he seemed to wish. She knew she was playing with fire, baiting him, goading him, attempting to crack the armour that he needed to keep in place, but Gods it was so much fun to attempt to rile him. She had no intention of stopping; the war loomed dark and ominous ahead of them all and this small amount of joy she was allowing herself would be her lifeline to hold onto and weather the storm at her darkest points. Every time she thought of his last sign off 'Your favourite Greasy Git', she knew she would smile to herself even in the worst moments of what was to come. In that moment he had gifted her something truly amazing, whether he would admit it later or not, he had given her his humour. And she would treasure it.

She tapped her wand to send the words to his journal and disguised her journal as personal diary to justify the wards on it, then placed it in her beaded bag. She had no idea when she would return to this room and no idea where her life would lead from this point on but she knew she had to keep the journal safe, to keep Snape's words to her nearby as if having them close to her could somehow protect them both.

* * *

The students remained at Hogwarts for four days until Albus Dumbledore's funeral could be arranged. Every morning she woke up just as she had the first morning after his death… ensconced in thoughts of the to-do-list of a regular day. Each day she would emerge from the normalcy that sleep allowed before reality crept in she cried for the losses, her friends and the future. Then she would bury it all, check the journal – no response – paste a smile on her face and be Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter.

On the morning of Dumbledore's funeral, with still no reply from Snape, she decided it was time to let him know of the last rites for the headmaster. At 10am, she found herself alone in her dorm. She strongly warded the four poster bed that had been hers for six crazy years and once more summoned the diary and self-inking quill…

_Dear Mr Silent and Billowing,_

_Are you okay? I confess to being worried that I haven't heard from you. I'm sure you don't appreciate my worry but it's there all the same and there's nothing you can do about it. _

_I'm writing to inform you of Professor Dumbledore's funeral today. I'm sure you are already aware but it's in an hour. I do not want to go – it feels so final. I suppose that's the point though. The line drawn in the sand. I am sure the whole wizarding world will feel the sadness today but I would like to say, and I promise to take the liberty just this once… Severus, I am so sorry for your loss._

_I will shed tears for him on your behalf as I know yours are masked behind thick, strong, necessary shields of indifference and disdain. I will place black lillies on his tomb and only you and I shall know they are from the heart that broke over the task you were given. On this darkest and most desolate of days, I will grieve his loss twice as hard and ten times as wide, allow it to be all-encompassing as I will grieve your grief for you while you are unable._

_Yours_

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. I would not wish for your smirk today. _

Tears rolling down her face, Hermione tapped her wand to send the her third correspondence to Snape in a week and put her writing things away before heading to meet Harry and the Weasley's in the Great Hall before the funeral.

* * *

**A/N: This is a little short compared to some chapters I write but it felt like a good point to stop and I am honestly just glad to have gotten the words out – as you all may have noticed, my storied are not currently being updated with any sort of frequency and that is because of the dreaded writer's block but this was waiting to be written when I woke up this morning and hope you all like it.**

**I'm curious to hear from all of you… would you like me to switch to Snape's POV for the next chapter or stick with Hermione's. I admit that Hermione's is easier but there are some things that would be enjoyable to write from Snape's side… perhaps she is beginning to crack that hardened shell of his with her emotional out pouring…? We shall see.**

**The change from canon in this one is very subtle but it is her feelings toward Snape which are obviously highly empathic and sympathetic to his position. It is not the change I had planned – which is now postponed until later but I will include it at some point so I can't share what it is – only my sly-girls know that little twist (Dash and Claw). **

**Love and Teary Blessings**

**Moon Out!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello my lovelies, that sounded witchy enough right? Here we are with my latest update for this emotional story. This chapter was written to bring about the thawing of Severus's attitude toward Hermione and his acceptance that she's there for him. I hope I manage it. This is one of the rare occasions when the characters did what I wanted them to and behaved.**

**Hope you enjoy the melancholy of this chapter, it was heart-wrenching to write but definitely as therapeutic to me as I think it is for Hermione and Severus. POV jumps back and forth a little bit on this one but it's mainly Snape's. I know how my lovely Coven (Dash, Claw and Snow) enjoy a good old Sev-POV as much as I do so this if for you girls.**

**Please read and review, enjoy, follow and favourite. This story has a lot of work to do to catch up to For the Love of Snape on all counts. Its success is down to you my lovely readers.**

**Lots of Love…**

**WARNING: The first section of this chapter holds descriptions of non-consensual sexual events. I have made it as non-explicit as I could while trying to explain what happened. If this content is likely to effect you in a harmful way, please skip to after the first scene (scenes are segregated by grey lines). The non-con will be mildly referenced back to in the emotions felt in later scenes.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Severus's reward, if it could be called that (Severus was inclined to think not) was as undignified as it was repugnant. How these purebloods considered themselves even remotely refined when they resorted to such barbaric and debauched caveman-like practices was beyond him. It seemed his thoughts of the Dark Lord holding Hermione Granger as the Death Eaters took their turns with her were not so far fetched after all. He felt sick.

However, Voldemort seemed unwilling to touch such scum as those he though so beneath him. Seven muggleborn women, girls really, were held in a long-term variant of _petrificus totalis; _the body was not made rigid but motor skills were disabled and the bodies levitated while their minds and physical sensation was uninhibited. It made Severus feel sick to witness such a thing but like the good little Death Eater he purported to be, he used his disgust at the situation and made it appear as though his disgust was for the muggleborns.

His specific reward for finally annihilating Albus Dumbledore, Severus was given his choice of any two of the seven girls to make his own for the evening. A stage was set up, so the entertainment could be enjoyed by all. All except for the muggleborns parents who were levitated against the walls and made to watch silently while their daughters were raped by the attending Death Eaters. The daughters were imperiused to believe they were enjoying themselves and as Severus had taught all seven of the captive young witches, he felt the nausea climbing from his stomach, despite the hefty occlumency shields he was employing.

The revels continued for several hours. Severus had had no choice but to play his part but spend over an hour trying to scrub the self-loathing from his very soul in the shower afterwards. He had always managed to avoid such participation in the revels up until that point, his excuse being that if he was recognised by anyone his cover would be blown. Now that his supposed cover was already blown, he had lost his excuse and had to play along. He felt disgusted with himself.

He thought of the words Miss Granger had spoken to him in her last missive in the journal – '_I will stay strong for you, I will always find a way to listen to you but I need a promise from you…It's nothing like others would ask of you… it's just… please… please… please don't die.' _

"Would you still be so lenient Miss Granger if you knew what I had to endure, what I had to do in order to live? I think not."

He couldn't face the journal that night. He couldn't read about her blind faith in him, her loyalty which felt so very completely undeserved. Instead he merely checked that the journal had not been discovered and fell into a fitful sleep with nightmares of the know-it-all withdrawing her support, calling him a 'disgusting, hateful bastard', of her walking away to her death, just like Lily had. He woke several times in a cold sweat, panting, sobbing into his wet pillow and filled with a previously unknown level of anguish and despair.

* * *

**END OF DESCRIPTIVE NON-CON CONTENT**

* * *

Severus awoke feeling more tired than when he went to sleep. He felt dirty and sickened by his own actions; his dark mark seemed to mock him from its permanent place on his arm – a constant reminder of how he had succumb to such blatant dunderheadedness in his youth.

He showered until he was one layer of skin from bleeding. He thought of Miss Granger as he took stock of his reddened skin in the bathroom mirror. He hated looking at himself at the best of times but it was worse today. He imagined her smirking at his sudden lack of paleness and again felt the bile rise from his stomach. Finally unleashing it, he leaned over the toilet bowl.

It took thirty minutes for him to right himself ready for the day, and for the redness to dissipate enough that he was comfortable enough to be seen. He knew he couldn't put the journal off any longer. He had to let Granger and the Order know about the muggleborns and their parents from last night.

He ordered a pot of tea from the house elves and once he cast a number of privacy spells and wards, he opened the journal…

_To my favourite greasy git,_

"Ah yes, humour. If only you knew how inappropriate that was today."

'As though it isn't always inappropriate, but especially today'.

_Are you okay? Thank you for responding in such a timely manner; I didn't think you'd be able to. I was asleep when the message came through otherwise I would have responded immediately… perhaps we should begin dating these correspondence so we know when they come through. _

'Always so eager to please. Life will knock that out of you soon enough.' He thought with a sigh.

_I am aware that if you survive this war which is now bearing down on us heavily, it will not be for my benefit but if you do I shall be glad of it nonetheless. You're sneers, smirks and billowing of robes are as imprinted on my childhood as Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, lemon drops and that spider that always fell from his hat. You are as situated in the furniture of Hogwarts to me as my adventures with the boys and my run-ins with Malfoy. To me, there's no Hogwarts without you Professor – the dungeons would be so light and cheerful without you… we can't have that now, can we?_

Severus snickered a little at that, even as he wiped a determined escapee tear away.

'How are you getting to me like this? Insufferable little witch.'

_You may have noticed that I plan to ignore your request for short messages. You brought it upon yourself I'm afraid in requesting I do such a thing. I have been raised and conditioned to disobey you at all costs; having friends like Harry Potter and the Weasley twins has interesting side-effects, don't you think? In matters of Order business, I will of course try my hardest to supress this urge. _

"Why, you cheeky little…"

_Speaking of Order business, you asked how much I have been told in regards to your duties and my preparedness for this mission. Here I will keep to your request for concise – I have been informed of your true loyalties and certain promises made to Albus Dumbledore. I know I am your liaison with the Order and that information must remain completely and irrevocably secret, as if it didn't exist at all. I have been told that you and I are the eye of the storm; the support that will lift Harry up to do what must be done and help him in crushing snake-face when the time comes. I could not ask for a better partner in this mission and I trust you implicitly, despite what I may show outwardly to the world. Know that Snape, know it and believe it. I have complete faith in you and it cannot and will not be shaken no matter how you choose to take out your frustration in acerbic comments. _

"Oh, Miss Granger; I fear your implicit trust may be shaken to the core if you know of my activities from last night. It is a shame there are not better tidings I can share with you to renew such blind faith."

_Maybe that wasn't so concise after all but you know I'm incapable of anything less than 5 five feet of parchment on a two feet essay. I will try harder. Maybe. Will I get points if I can drop it down to three feet?_

"No." He stated categorically to the journal, shaking his head in disbelief at her cheek as a smile tried to fight its way through the melancholy and self-loathing.

_You asked about my preparedness for this mission… you have met me right? When am I not prepared? I am perhaps being insubordinate in saying so but to be honest you're a Death Eater and you killed Albus Dumbledore so you really don't have a leg to stand on. _

"Low blow, Miss Granger; that was a low-blow."

_And, yes I know it was his idea and he was dying anyway; I know that you respected him as a mentor and a friend, maybe even a father-figure and I do not blame you for anything that happened and if it ever comes to a trial for these things, know that I will stand for you but I need to get my digs in where I can. After being such a git to me for six years, a girl gets to have a little payback… suck it up, Professor._

Simultaneously, he burst into laughter and tears. The girl really was asking for it. She managed to insult him and soothe him with the simplest of words. It was a talent he hadn't been prepared for and it was going to take more than occlumency to protect him from its effects.

"Impertinent little…" He took a deep breath… "Clever little witch."

_Well, I will end this missive now except to promise that I will not moan too much or too often about the boys; I know they grate on your nerves. They do on mine most of the time too… think about it from my perspective, I practically live with them. That should make you shudder. _

"Indeed it did." He said, shuddering at the mere thought of having to deal with the dunderheaded duo 24/7.

_As a thank you for supplying you with that mental image would you concede to settling a curiosity about your name…? I am currently obsessed with what the 'T' stands for. My best guess is Theodore, maybe it's your father's name. _

Severus sighed, shaking his head in wonder.

'Something the know-it-all doesn't know? Surely not. This could be fun.'

_That makes me try to imagine you as a little boy - my turn to shudder – I'm picturing little black robes now that swish as a one year old Severus Snape attempts his first billow; that makes me smile rather than shudder. I don't suppose it's that important for you to tell me but I would like to know._

Severus pictured her smile as she would sit imagining his toddler self.

'Perhaps when the war is over, if we both survive, I can find an old picture to show her. Baby's first billow didn't happen till I was twenty-two but perhaps she'd like to see me as a boy anyway.'

_Well I suppose I will leave you to your other duties. I'll let you know when Professor Dumbledore's funeral is. I doubt it would be a good idea for you to attend but I'm sure I can shed a tear on your behalf. I might even spell my robes to billow in your stead. Look after yourself; even if it's not because I'm asking, I want you to know I would feel the loss if something happened to you._

"Oh, Miss Granger, do not set yourself up so readily for a fall."

_Best insufferable know-it-all you'll ever know, short and concise as ever…_

Severus actually laughed again at that. The girl had somehow developed an uncanny ability to make him laugh and he didn't like it. It was dangerous. That didn't stop him from continuing to laugh; it felt good. There were so precious few things to laugh about at the moment.

_Yours_

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. You absolutely smirked and you are doing it again now. I can practically taste it._

"Taste it, hmmm? What kind of reference is that? Was that a flirtation, Miss Granger? Impossible!"

'If she knew what I'd done last night she would not be flirting. Unless… no… no, surely not!"

"NO!" he said out loud to halt his thoughts. 'It's simply not possible she could be attracted to me. She's barely even seventeen. I'm a death eater, her teacher, and a complete bastard. It's not possible.'

He chose not to reply right away. The events of the previous night were still very raw and while her missive had broken a little of his melancholy, he was not yet fully back in control of his faculties and he would need that mask of indifference back in place before he could take her task for being so insubordinate and cheeky toward him. As it was, in that moment, he found it highly amusing and did not have the will to berate her for it.

* * *

It took three days for Severus to feel calm enough, composed enough to reply to the know-it all who had been on his mind more than he cared to admit over that time. He had ventured to Hogwarts for the day… to establish himself as the new Headmaster with the teachers and send the necessary notifications to the Ministry (such as it was) that the position was now his and if anyone had a problem with that, they could take it up with his 'boss'. That silenced almost everyone. Minerva McGonagall being the exception.

He eventually managed to placate her with enough truth of his purpose that she gave up the fight and begrudgingly allowed him to take the position from her. That didn't stop her scowling at him for half the day and arguing with him about allowing Dumbledore's funeral to remain as scheduled on the grounds. By the time she left _his_ office, he was weary and not in the mood to deal with Granger – but he knew he had to get it over with.

"Chin up, dear boy," The voice of Albus Dumbledore's portrait broke his muttered grumblings and he spun around to face the periwinkle blue eyes which twinkled even when made of canvas.

"I have nothing to say to you, old man. This whole situation is entirely your fault and I am not in a forgiving mood today."

"You know this step was necessary, Severus. I only wish I had more time to explain to Miss Granger the delicacy of the situation and to assure her that she must under no circumstances allow Harry or Mr Weasley to discover that you are still allied with the Order. You made unnecessary enemies by laying your grudge against James upon Harry and now that hostility could destroy everything."

"I know. Now if you'll excuse me, I must relay the latest information to Granger before your bloody funeral."

"Give her my best, won't you Severus…" Albus replied with a chuckle.

Severus rolled his eyes and opened the journal to a fresh page. He was just about to begin when the book warmed and words slowly materialised on the page…

_Dear Mr Silent and Billowing,_

'Not today, Miss Granger. I can't deal with your uppity little remarks today."

_Are you okay? I confess to being worried that I haven't heard from you. I'm sure you don't appreciate my worry but it's there all the same and there's nothing you can do about it. _

Severus couldn't quite find a biting or sarcastic thought or remark for that. He felt a tightness in his chest as he read of her worry. Albus never truly worried about him; just assumed he was strong enough to deal with the plethora of burdens and sent him into the enemy camp for information. From what he could remember, his parents never particularly worried about him either – his father certainly never, his mother, well she was more concerned about keeping his father's fists away from her face. Minerva had her moments of concern but that was about it – no one ever really worried about him. Except Miss Granger. He felt a little suffocated by it.

'She cares. She shouldn't care. It's too dangerous for her to care.'

_I'm writing to inform you of Professor Dumbledore's funeral today. I'm sure you are already aware but it's in an hour. I do not want to go – it feels so final. I suppose that's the point though. The line drawn in the sand. I am sure the whole wizarding world will feel the sadness today but I would like to say, and I promise to take the liberty just this once… Severus, I am so sorry for your loss._

He closed his eyes at that. A single tear falling with a deep weary sigh. He had no idea how she was evoking such strong emotions from him. It was unnerving.

_I will shed tears for him on your behalf as I know yours are masked behind thick, strong, necessary shields of indifference and disdain. I will place black lilies on his tomb and only you and I shall know they are from the heart that broke over the task you were given. On this darkest and most desolate of days, I will grieve his loss twice as hard and ten times as wide, allow it to be all-encompassing as I will grieve your grief for you while you are unable._

"Hermione…" he allowed himself to whisper softly into the office as his heart broke momentarily for the responsibility she was taking on for him. The moment was over as Albus cleared his oil-painted throat and Severus shook his head to come back to himself.

_Yours_

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. I would not wish for your smirk today. _

He sighed as the tiniest hint of a smile tinged the corners of his mouth. No one but him would notice it was there… well, maybe Granger if she was looking.

He was suddenly at a loss for what to tell her; how to express his gratitude for making this day a little more bearable. Closing the journal he decided to wait until later in the day. It wasn't as if she knew he was not responding because he was choked up at her sentiments. It could be dealt with later.

* * *

The funeral was as saddening as expected. The grey clouds that rolled over head felt ominous. A storm was coming, powerful and destructive, brewing above the oppressive mugginess of the hot summer day. Hermione had done as she told Snape she would do… she had cried a river of tears for herself and for him; she had allowed her heart to crack wide open and to desperately feel the quaking loss as it wracked her body. She broke as surely as she would have done had she been alone when she purposely channelled Severus's emotions directly from him. She was a natural empath but having called for Severus's emotions specifically with a spell, she felt the tumultuous and heavy burden of them as if she were carrying the whole world in her heart. It had been too much and she had broken.

The ceremony of last rites had been completed twenty minutes ago. She still sat, the silence that reined was deafening once everyone had begun to walk up to the castle; she just sat staring at the white tomb unseeingly; her fingers toying with three black lilies unconsciously.

It could have been hours that she sat there staring; it must have at least been one, maybe two. The clouds had finally lost their restraint and large, heavy raindrops melted the tomb, the forest, the lake, the castle, everything that was Hogwarts and miles beyond it. Hermione couldn't feel it. She felt an eerie calm amongst the chaos of the storm as she sat alone. At least she thought she was alone.

She blinked as a smudge of blackness marred her blurred grey vision. Something near the tomb. No, on the tomb.

'What could it be?' Some distant part of her curious mind seemed piqued by its strange presence in the endless grey.

Absent-mindedly, she stood and approached it. She didn't lift her wand; it was a smudge. Her vision cleared as she drew closer – a raven. A large, black, proud looking raven, with inky sorrow in its eyes and a beak that she had a strange feeling could produce a sneer.

"Severus?" She asked in a whisper. Somehow she just knew. It felt like she had always known this should be his animagus form. Clever, cunning and misunderstood – a raven was the perfect representation of Snape.

The raven closed its eyes and gave a slight bow of its head to answer in the affirmative. She held out the arm that did not have lilies in its hand and after a moment he hopped up and she bent her elbow she he was between her and the tomb.

"Thank you for coming. It may be hard for you to believe or understand but in the oddest way, I miss you."

She placed the lilies on the tomb, holding the raven to the side as she did so and her tears began again. She could feel him watching her but she didn't mind. She'd promised him this breakdown – tears he was not allowed to shed.

Severus watched her for several moments before hopping from her arm to the nearby white tomb of his fallen mentor. He settled on the lilies as if he could connect to the warmth of the sentiment behind them being placed there for him.

As she watched him, Hermione's heart ached. The moment had become less about Dumbledore and more about sharing each other's grief. She watched a single tear fall from the raven's gaze before he spread his wings and took off into the dreary sky toward the castle.

The raven became a smudge again, fading away until she could see him no more.

She wiped her eyes and took several deep breaths, stealing herself against the grief and mentally severing her empathy.

"Enough. That's enough now. Time to go to war."

With a determined stride and fire in her still damp eyes, she marched through the torrential rains as if they were a light drizzle and headed toward the wake.

* * *

Severus landed on the open window to the Headmaster's office, _his office_ and transformed back from a raven as he flew to the floor. His eyes were red-rimmed and streaming, his robes sodden and clinging.

He didn't dry his robes; they mirrored how he was feeling at that moment – wet and clingy. He sat at his desk and summoned the journal. Very little came to mind as he plucked a quill from the holder and dipped it in the ink so he settled for what he felt – gratitude.

_Miss Granger,_

_Thank you._

_Severus T Snape._

_P.S. Are you okay?_

* * *

**A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, that was an emotional one to write. I hope I managed it well. I fear Claw may yell at me in the review for getting her all teary and emotional with this one. If it's any consolation, Claw, I got teary myself.**

**Love and Raven Blessings**

**Moon Out! x**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Good morning, afternoon or evening to all my beautiful, lovely HP addicts, who just like me are so desperate for more of the original story that they create it themselves or seek out others to do it for them; I am so happy to have found kindred spirits here, especially my Coven of Dash, Claw and Snow. Dash has some wonderful stories on her account (TempestEDashon), go check her out; I have managed to bully (in a nice way) Claw into writing and her debut story on is now live and complete – a Blaise/Hermione tale called 'All of You'; go find it and her on her account named Slytherclaw Black. Snow, I'm still working on but as I know she's a writer, I'll wear her down; just her reviews deserve reviews so that is my personal aim, as well as trying to finish any or all of my own stories.**

**Now, to clear up a question Snow asked me:**

**Is Snape is just teasing Hermione with how he signed his last message with the 'T'? The answer is yes he is. Despite his grief and gratitude for her understanding, he's still the snarky git we all know and love. I don't think he can help it.**

**I also forgot to add what changed in the last chapter (as per my personally set challenge) and I'm going to go with Severus's animagus form being revealed to Hermione, not to mention the reveal of what his animagus form was. I'm refusing to use the fact that they're communicating as the change, it has to be something else. Another option would be the empathy spell Hermione cast and indeed there may be several changes per chapter, otherwise you might as well read canon – again. Actually, I have a question for everyone: let me know in the reviews of this chapter, how many times you have read or listen to (via Stephen Fry of Jim Dale) to the original stories. Whoever has the highest will get a cameo role in a later chapter, or get to name a character if they don't want to be personally involved.**

**Well, I think I've waxed lyrical for long enough. This chapter is mainly a means of moving things forward to the next big moment – filler if you will but hopefully just as enjoyable.**

* * *

Chapter 6

It took until well after midnight for Hermione to get to her journal that night. There were many hugs and tears; consoling and condolences, followed by a tearful goodbye as Harry, with an Order escort, was deposited with the Dursley's for the last time. The poor excuse for muggle family needed to be made aware of the situation and Harry had assured the whole Order, in no uncertain terms, that the muggles would not listen to him. Therefore, Remus, Tonks and Kingsley had accompanied Harry 'home' and made Vernon, Petunia and Dudley party to recent events and relayed the danger they were now in.

Ron had returned home to the Burrow, along with Ginny; family togetherness felt important in the run up of what was to come and apparently Fleur wanted Ginny as a bridesmaid in her upcoming wedding; Hermione too, as well as her own little sister. With the security of Grimmauld Place expired, the old house was out of action as Order Headquarters due to Snape's apparent defection and so the Burrow had replaced it. And Mad Eye Moody had replaced Albus Dumbledore as the Head of Order. Spending so much time under Molly's mothering, it was surprising the grisly old Auror didn't grow to the size of a house.

That left Hermione to go home too, alone. She had a guard of course – Dedalus Diggle and Bill Weasley – but without Harry and Ron she felt very alone. The day had been desperately sad and she had barely managed to pull herself together enough to be apparated home. It was clear to Bill that she was in no fit state to apparate herself and so he suggested she be side-alonged. She'd nodded at the suggestion; too afraid to speak in case her voice cracked again. She'd only just stopped crying.

As her mother opened the front door, Hermione flung herself into the older woman's arms as the flood gates opened once more. It was easy to forget how much one missed home and family when the drama, emotion and adventure in her life was so high but the sight of her mother brought every memory of home and family and love rushing back to her, as well as the feelings of loss and helplessness and loneliness.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Her mother had asked, a little panicked.

"Perhaps we could come in, Mrs Granger." Bill had replied politely. "A lot has happened in the last few days and we have even more to explain."

"Of course, of course. I'll make tea and sandwiches. Unless you want something stronger."

Bill, Dedalus and Hermione had all nodded desperately.

Once everyone was comfortably settled in the Granger's living room, between Bill, Dedalus and Hermione, they managed to relay the events of the last week. Honestly, Hermione said very little; she mainly sipped her mother's best brandy and tried to rein in her tears once more, wondering what Snape was doing at that precise moment. The Granger's – Jonathan and Moira – had listened quietly but with rapt attention, nodding appropriately and topping up drinks as required as they cast worried looks at their daughter.

When they were fully up to date, Jonathan and Moira gave their sympathies for the loss of Dumbledore, berated Severus Snape for his defection from the Order, at which point Hermione had to supress a wince and just allow more tears to flow, and asked after the health of Harry, Ron and everyone else. Bill assured them that Ron was fine and eating everything their mother could produce in the kitchen – apparently eating your grief is as good a way to cope as any other. Harry was reported as being as ok as to be expected given the situation, his monumental task of trying killing Voldemort and being stuck with his abusive Aunt and Uncle. Moira made a slight face at this and offered for the burdened wizard to come and stay with them but Dedalus shook his head and said that protective magics meant he had to stay with blood relatives.

By the time, Bill and Dedalus took their leave, Hermione was so emotionally wrung out that she headed straight to her old bedroom and descended into the relative peace of sleep without even changing into pyjamas; her mother checking on her worriedly every hour or so. The brandy had done its job well though and Hermione slept for several hours; the rest very much needed and the comfort of her parents being close by acted as a balm to her fraught and frazzled psyche.

* * *

She awoke with a desperate need to pee; the downside of alcohol, for Hermione at least was that it went straight through her and she found herself running to the bathroom, eyes swollen from sleep and her earlier tears. After relieving herself with a contented sigh, she checked her horrifying appearance in the small mirror over the sink before magically detangling her curls, giving her face a cold rinse and brushing her teeth. She knew herself well enough to know she would not be going to sleep so she grabbed her 'Journal-de-Billow' as she had aptly dubbed it and headed to the kitchen for a very strong coffee – possibly laced with more brandy, if her dad had left it out.

Ten minutes later found a steaming mug of half-coffee-half-brandy in Hermione's left hand and her favourite magical accessory, a think strip of vine wood wand with i's fiery core of dragon heartstring in her right as she unwarded the Journal-de-Billow and flipped the pages to see if Snape had responded yet. Her mouthful of rich flavoured beverage promptly spluttered over the affected page as she read his words.

_Miss Granger,_

_Thank you._

_Severus T Snape._

_P.S. Are you okay?_

She re-read the short missive over and over, trying to get her head around the words that were, if they'd been from anyone else, practically just on the cusp of cordial; from Severus Snape however they were practically a glowing endorsement of trust and… and… acceptance. Hermione was overwhelmed. For the first time in days she was not on the verge of tears but trying very hard, given the sombreness of the greater wizarding crisis, to supress a huge grin. His words made her feel she had truly accomplished some great feat of difficulty; there was a feeling of personal triumph in making the man who spent his life expressionless, the man who never showed concern or worry, ask if she was okay. She wanted to jump up and dance around the kitchen. Of course that could be the influence of the brandy.

The pride she felt in her achievement would not be tempered, she held on to her restraint for several minutes as she kept reading his admittedly few words of gratitude and concern but eventually the joy of his words bubbled up and she gave an excitable squeal and whooping noise which would be more fitting at a football or Quidditch match.

Realising how loud her celebratory exclamations had been she listened to hear if she had disturbed her parents; it was four in the morning after all. It seemed that she hadn't but while staring at the ceiling and listening for movement, something seemed to click into place in her mind and her monumental joy of moments ago faded into all-consuming, stomach-roiling fear. As a muggleborn and Harry Potter's best friend, there was no possible way she could return to school; she would be one of the biggest targets in Voldemort's campaign for world domination, or whatever it was he actually wanted. Hermione wasn't entirely sure he knew himself anymore. It dawned on her in those brief moments of concern for her parents waking that if she was a target, so to would they be and all of sudden, she was once again crying with images of Death Eaters, particularly Bellatrix LeStrange and Lucius Malfoy torturing her whereabouts out of her non-the-wiser parents; perhaps even kidnapping them as lure to pull her, Ron and Harry out of hiding. There was no way the Order would ever allow them to come out of hiding; not now. She had to protect her parents. Whether they were targets yet or not, they would become so as soon as the Death Eaters couldn't find Harry, Ron and herself.

She hated herself as she put her quill to the parchment of the journal; she hated that by requesting something so monumental of him, she was putting him in even graver danger than he was already in. The problem was she was out of options; short of obliviating her parents and sending them off to Australia, she needed help.

_Dear Sir,_

_I'm okay, I think. Alive at least. That is about as good as I expect things to be for a while. Are you okay? _

_I was so comforted by your presence at the funeral. I know no one can understand that you were there and I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you to show up but I am so thankful that you did. In retrospect, your animagus form makes me smile; a lone smile against the endless frowns and screwed up eyes as I try to keep the endless tears at bay. I'm sorry I'm starting to sound poetic, it must be the brandy. I'll stop now._

_I need to ask you something important. I'm at home now. The Order delivered me safely to my parents' house after the funeral. Actually, what I need to ask you is in relation to my parents. I'm assuming that Harry, Ron and I will not be returning to school in September and as I'm not sure what we'll be doing, short of horcrux hunting and trying to stay off of snake-face's radar, I need to know that my parents will be safe. The only idea I seem capable of having is to obliviate them so they are no longer aware I even exist and send them off to Australia. Is that far enough? In my haste to devise this plan, I considered sending them to the Moon. I'm afraid I've watched too many episodes of Doctor Who. _

_The problem with this plan is that I have only studied and learned enough about obliviate to make the memory changes permanent. If I survive, I would like to have my parents back if that's possible. You are the most talented wizard I know in relation to mind magic – does the flattery help to persuade you to assist me? I may have thrown it in there to be flattering with that outcome in mind but it is true nonetheless. I would be so grateful for your advice at the very least, perhaps even your assistance if we can arrange it somehow. _

_I know I am asking so very much and if you can't get away, I understand. I'm just rather desperate. Are they targets already? I have the house warded to within an inch of its life. The Order has even made it unplottable but I'm so scared. Please can you help me, Professor? You're the only person I can turn to._

_Yours,_

_Hermione._

Hermione re-read her words twice through before casting the spell to send them to Snape's journal. She felt she had struck a good balance between sentiment, flattery and humour. She had left out there argument about smirking because it didn't feel like the right time for such trivial folly. He'd smirked and she knew it. There were more important things to deal with now.

She summoned her beaded bag, re-warded the journal and placed it inside before making up several sandwiches and putting them under both cling-film and a stasis charm and placing them into her bag too. Next, she added several apples, packets of smoky bacon crisps and a packet of mint club biscuits. At some point she had a feeling that she and her friends were going to end up on the run and she wanted to have as much packed as possible before that time came. She'd added an undetectable extension charm to her favourite beaded bag just three days ago and now she was extremely glad she did.

To distract herself until her parents woke up and for something to do while she waited for Snape to reply, she cleaned – muggle cleaning was exactly what she needed – a little elbow grease and the bleachy smell, tinged with lemon was permeating the air as she scrubbed the kitchen counters, mopped the floor, scourgified the carpet to avoid the vaccum waking her parents, and polished the dining and coffee tables.

* * *

A hot shower and a fitful night of slip has followed Severus's too honest missive to the insufferable Miss Granger. He hoped, as he stood in the show, washing himself and bringing his composure back under control that his lack of formality would not go to her head and make her think she could be informal toward him. That would not do. Not with how things were. He worried that she would consider his concession a bridge into friendship which neither of them could afford to cross.

Sleep came slowly and when it did he was haunted by both nightmares of his 'reward' in which he was discovered as a spy and tortured until he gave up the whereabouts of all Order members he knew of and other dreams/nightmares of the floods of tears that Miss Granger had cried as he watched her sob and sniffle through the funeral and afterwards. Most frightening of all were the imaginings of his sub-conscious as he watched the imagery of his dreams play out showing him to transform back into a man in her presence, and hold her as they both sobbed.

No doubt her easy acceptance of him and his role were responsible for such fluffy Hufflepuff thoughts entering his head. He had never been fond of physical affection. Even all those years ago, when Lily had hugged him with more ease and frequency than he was comfortable with, he had wanted the embraces to end quickly. Now another muggleborn Gryffindor witch sort to comfort him and again, he was intent on pulling away as fast and with as little fuss as possible.

Yes, sleep was proving uncomfortable this night and rightly so after allowing his cruel-Professor persona to crack a little. He woke many times in cold sweats, clutching at a pillow tightly as if it were her slight body that had given him such comfort in his mind and her words in her letters. On the last waking, at 3am, he decided it was pointless to return to sleep for more unrest and so chose to flee the castle. There was a muggle pub he remembered near home which never closed. He would go there and drink until he forgot the confusing Miss Granger and her unwelcome comfort.

Severus had been at The Rag & Bone pub for just under an hour when he felt the journal warm slightly within his robes. He wandlessly cast privacy wards and pulled it out, hoping that there wouldn't be anything too emotional in her words or that she would be bright enough not to acknowledge his slip in propriety.

_Dear Sir,_

'Formal. Good.' He thought, as he began.

_I'm okay, I think. Alive at least. That is about as good as I expect things to be for a while. Are you okay? _

'Is that optimism or scepticism? It's hard to tell at the moment.'

_I was so comforted by your presence at the funeral. I know no one can understand that you were there and I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you to show up but I am so thankful that you did. In retrospect, your animagus form makes me smile; a lone smile against the endless frowns and screwed up eyes as I try to keep the endless tears at bay. I'm sorry I'm starting to sound poetic, it must be the brandy. I'll stop now._

A flurry of emotions hit him at once as he read.

'Brandy? Not quite so Little Miss Perfect then?'

'A smile? A lone smile against the endless frowns and screwed up eyes as I try to keep the endless tears at bay.' He thought of the meaning of those words and a lone smile of his own crept unbidden along the crease of his thin lips, curling slightly at his unknown ability to give her that lone comfort. As incredulous as it was.

_I need to ask you something important. I'm at home now. The Order delivered me safely to my parents' house after the funeral. Actually, what I need to ask you is in relation to my parents. I'm assuming that Harry, Ron and I will not be returning to school in September and as I'm not sure what we'll be doing, short of horcrux hunting and trying to stay off of snake-face's radar, _

He snorted at that. 'Snake-face. Ha! He'd just love that.'

_I need to know that my parents will be safe. The only idea I seem capable of having is to obliviate them so they are no longer aware I even exist and send them off to Australia. Is that far enough? In my haste to devise this plan, I considered sending them to the Moon. I'm afraid I've watched too many episodes of Doctor Who. _

Snape shook his head in disbelief at her words, his fingers gently pinching his nose.

Obliviation?

Australia?

Of course, there was no way she and her friends would be able to return to the school and it would be unsafe for her to remain at home. Lucius's connections at the Ministry would have her records found in seconds, not to mention her school record, with her address was mere metres away in his filing cabinet. He realised somewhat belatedly that the little witch had point.

_The problem with this plan is that I have only studied and learned enough about obliviate to make the memory changes permanent. If I survive, I would like to have my parents back if that's possible. You are the most talented wizard I know in relation to mind magic – _

He snorted once more but was unable to keep the slight smugness from his expression.

…_does the flattery help to persuade you to assist me? _

'Slytherin little witch. Although admitting it? Not so Slytherin.'

_I may have thrown it in there to be flattering with that outcome in mind but it is true nonetheless. I would be so grateful for your advice at the very least, perhaps even your assistance if we can arrange it somehow. _

He took a deep breath as his fingers found the bridge of his nose once more.

'Would it never end? This duty of service to bloody teenagers.'

_I know I am asking so very much and if you can't get away, I understand. I'm just rather desperate. Are they targets already? I have the house warded to within an inch of its life. The Order has even made it unplottable but I'm so scared. Please can you help me, Professor? You're the only person I can turn to._

'Manipulative little, emotionally-blackmailing, Slytherin-in-Gryffindor clothing witch. Narcissa couldn't have done a better job of wrapping me around her little finger. I'll get you back for this.'

He sighed and checked her sign off.

_Yours,_

_Hermione._

'Informal… and no post script. Interesting. Very interesting.'

His long, pale, calloused fingers stroked the lines of her name as if it was the first time he'd ever seen it. Her handwriting really was beautiful - small and delicate but with a sense of determination in each stroke of the quill which he knew the witch herself was in possession of.

Shaking himself and removing his hand from caressing the lettering, he pulled a muggle pen from an inside pocket. It wouldn't do to linger over such small fancies as her pretty penmanship.

* * *

**A/N: You know, I almost feeling like I'm cheating with the word count on this chapter as I used the letter twice but as everyone seems to enjoy Severus reacting line for line, or at least paragraph for paragraph, I hope I'm forgiven.**

**I'm actually surprising my Coven with this chapter today. I gave them no indication I was writing today or if I was which story it would be. My plot vipers are hissing for acknowledgement at the front of my brain for 'For the Love of Snape' and for 'Blood to Blood'. Sadly my Dramione's are on the back burner still but I have baby vipers snapping at my synapses in the background for those too. Don't you just love how I can stretch a metaphor out until it almost snaps? Oh yes, and there is a Lumione pending which I plan to complete before posting – if I can resist the temptation to post as soon as the prologue is done. Fingers crossed.**

**Well I shall say goodbye for now. I do hope you enjoyed this little update. If you did, tell me how much in a review below – haha!**

**Love & Blessings**

**Moon Out! x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies. It has been too long since my little darlings in this fic got to express themselves to each other in ever more snarky and sassy ways and so for them and for you, I finally summoned my muse from wherever she has spent the last couple of months and put fingers to keyboard. **

**I would like to add a special thank you to my Coven ladies, all of whom have been mentioned in this fic – Snow (the house elf of our lovely Severus, due to be more prominent in the next chapter); Claw (a.k.a. Aunt Clawrina) and last but by no means least, the irrepressible Dash (now to be forever known as Ganny Dash or more formally Dashara Neaps-Prince. Claw and Dash and more likely to show up in Chapter 9 than Chapter 8 but rest assured my coven will all be around in the next few chapters. As I have made Claw 102 and Dash perhaps 100, they may never forgive me but I will redeem myself.**

**Speaking of '100', the girls and I have a new account here of FF called Priestesses of H.I.S.S. Please find us here ( u/12732381/). A special account dedicated to fics under 100 specific titles which Dash and I are planning to take on all 100 titles; Claw and Snow perhaps will too with enough coaxing. **

**Well, I have babbled long enough. Please enjoy and don't forget to review.**

* * *

Chapter 7

It took a week for a Hermione to hear from Severus. A week of staring out of her bedroom window, plundering her father's brandy each night and checking the Journal-de-Billow every twenty minutes or so – just to make sure she hadn't missed the tell-tale warming; something which would be impossible to miss as she kept a hand on the dark leather for at least ten minutes of each twenty minute increment. She assumed he was busy. He was probably caught up in Death Eater business or preparing to be Headmaster. He may not have even seen her entry yet.

Every night she fell asleep with one hand on the journal under her pillow and tears in her eyes. Every night she dreamed of being Head Girl under the formidable new Headmaster and having him praise her for carrying out his strict instructions of her duties admirably – one of which was to keep the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy out of trouble as she had '_done so well at that duty with Potter and Weasley_' he would say sarcastically. She would reply, in the dream, with a very witty… '_Well, if they weren't so busy making eyes at each other maybe they would've listened to me more_'.

She woke immediately when she felt the journal warm under her hand and was sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes within ten seconds.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

"Finally I get the 'dear'. Progress." She laughed with the joy of said progress and the relief that he was alive and well and finally responding to her.

_Are you okay? It occurred to me that I may be the only intelligent conversation you receive for the foreseeable future and as I have been unable to respond whilst I make arrangements in regards to your request, I would not want your considerably vast, if tedious mind, to waste away from boredom and lack of proper stimulation._

"Why Professor Snape, that almost sounds like a compliment. Keep trying. You'll get better at it with practice."

_I have therefore arranged to be at your home tomorrow evening in order to guide you in performing the obliviate on your parents. They are indeed targets or have been mentioned as such within the DE Inner Circle. A possible way to distract you as Potter's constant companion. May I be so bold as to ask if there is more to your friendship than, well… friendship? It may have a bearing on future Order movements if there is and it would be better to be prepared rather than have these 'feelings' be taken advantage of. I believed you more attached to Weasley from my own infrequent observations but regardless of your emotional attachments to either or both of the boys and the extent of such, plans should be made to keep it private._

Hermione laughed out loud. Professor Snape enquiring about her love life felt even more surreal than conversing with him about anything at all in the first place other than how lacking he found her essays in creativity or personal opinion.

"Oh, if only you knew, Professor." She said to the journal, calming herself to continue reading.

_I have decided that your plan to send your parents to Australia is surprisingly a sound one; much more appropriate than the Moon. I must hope that you were making a poor attempt at humour when you suggested such a thing. Your nickname for a certain dark wizard we all know and hate that shall remain nameless was a much better attempt. I almost smirked at that one. Keep trying Miss Granger, it takes practice._

"Great minds think alike, Professor and if you're admitting an almost smirk, my thinking is that you actually laughed out loud."

_Now, as to your brandy consumption, I cannot condone such a thing but given the day you had, I will only take 25 pints from Gryffindor, instead of 50. I will also give Slytherin those 25 points as I have been so uncharacteristically lenient in this matter. We can't have you absconding from school next year with no impact on points at all and so I have chosen to honour your loss at the school with this gift. That is humorous to me and as if needs to be added, true._

"Git."

_As the funeral was trying for all of us, I will not go into detail as to my motives for being there except to say that your words were appreciated and we will not speak of it again. Too much is at risk. _

"That's fair I suppose." Hermione said with a sigh. "Still… progress! I will melt that frosty heart of yours yet, Professor."

_My house-elf, Snow, will be with you at 6.30pm tomorrow night with all the necessary false documentation for your parents move to Australia under the names Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I have had the deed to their house magically transferred to you via a liaison with Gringotts and we will be port-keying them to Perth after the obliviation where they have a bank account, a rented house and jobs in a local dentist surgery already set up courtesy of Russeve Neaps – a long forgotten squib relative of my mother's._

"Oh my God, you've thought of everything." Hermione smiled, realising she really, truly could rely on him to have her back. In the most important circumstance, of course.

_I shall see you at 7pm, Miss Granger. Until then…_

_Be well._

_Severus T. Snape_

_P.S. Still not smirking. A-Grade at best. Please try harder._

Hermione snorted at his post-script, realising he had brought that banter back into play. He had also been uncharacteristically kind in his arrangements for her mum and dad and his sign off. She was almost in tears as her fingers ghosted over the spiky scrawl where he signed his name.

"Oh Professor…" she whispered on a sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"

Hermione decided to take a quick shower before replying in the affirmative to his meeting tomorrow night. Her parents had 'date night' on a Friday evening, which tomorrow night would be, and it would be easier to obliviate them if they were slightly inebriated with wine.

* * *

_Dearest Severus (Teddy?) Snape,_

_Are you okay? I hate it when I don't hear from you. As much as I know you are probably absolutely fine and you wouldn't appreciate my concern, or at least not let me know you appreciate it, I do worry for you._

_Thank you so much for the trouble you have gone to in arranging such things for my parents. It means so much to me. Maybe one day, when this is all over, you'll let me take you out to dinner to say thank you properly? Of course, it would be inappropriate as things are at the moment and would probably get us both killed but otherwise I think I'd like to at some point. It might help you see me as a person and not a student too; although, I hope that has started already._

_As to my feelings for Harry and Ron… there is absolutely nothing to worry about in either case. Their romantic interests lay elsewhere; in fact, with each other. I have been entrusted with this confidence and I do not believe they intend to make it public knowledge until after the war and that is only if they both survive; which given whom one of them is, is most definitely not assured; as much as I hate to face it._

_The 25 points you took from Gryffindor, as I'm sure I don't need to tell you but I haven't ranted in at least a week and it needs letting out, were completely bogus. I am of age, not in school and grieving so you can take those points you gave to Slytherin and shove them somewhere so tight even your wand wouldn't fit. Rant over!_

_Now about this Russeve Neaps person, I am not as dense as to not recognise an anagram so thank you. Your great uncle must be a very special man and I would like to give _him_ a very big hug for what _he_ has done for me. I won't of course but please make sure _he_ knows that it is there in thought. I look forward to meeting Snow and seeing you tomorrow evening. I miss everyone terribly being stuck at home; my grumpy ex-Potions Professor included._

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione J Granger._

_P.S. Smirking is an art form taught only to Slytherins and as you are the consummate Slytherin, my dear Professor, I have no doubt that you smirk at anything which makes you feel superior. Considering you are superior at a great many things, your smirk should be a permanent fixture. _

* * *

Severus had had a very long and painful week. After receiving Miss Granger's message requesting help with her parent's he had arranged quickly for the documents and portkey travel to Australia, along with a three-day stay with his glamoured self as _Russeve Neaps_ to help her be comfortable with leaving them there and the wards that would surround them so she could concentrate on the missions to come.

Russeve Neaps had been invented as the squib brother of Severus's grandmother Dashara Neaps-Prince and her sister, his Aunt Clawrina whom actually lived in Australia and was 102 years old. No one knew of his familial relationship with the Neaps; the formidable Australian Arithmancy Mistress, Clawrina or her sister who was the eternal widow and lived perpetually in only black. These women from whom he derived his inky blank hair had been informed that the Granger family would be arriving by port-key in the next few days. The Prince name had passed down from his maternal grandfather to his mother but his maternal grandmother was a Neaps. It was a strange coincidence that the name was an anagram of Snape and he hoped if Hermione researched it, this would prove enough that she saw it as only a coincidence.

The day which had consisted of arranging his family and the Granger's had an unfortunate hiccup in the dark-clad shape of Bellatrix as she tailed him through most of his set-up-a-life-for-the-Grangers tasks. He had known she was doing so but there was only so much he could keep hidden and word of some of his recent activity had been distastefully reported back to the Dark Lord.

The day before he wrote to Hermione of his plans – he'd intentionally delayed until everything was set up – he was summoned to Malfoy Manor for a 'meeting' (code for 'tell me what you've been up to or I'll crucio you'). The 'meeting' was exactly as he had expected and had a story as close to the truth as he could make it.

"_My Lord, the Granger girl seems to believe she can appeal to some sense of morality she believes me to be hiding 'under a thick layer of snarkiness and black cloth', as she says."_

"_I see. This may be useful in getting to Potter, Severus. What did she ask you for?"_

"_A safe house, my Lord. She has asked for my assistance in leaving the wizarding world entirely. She says she has had enough of the darkness and the magic; she wishes to leave the country with her parents; go to Austria where one of her grandfather's is from. She has confided in me that she is ready to snap her wand and never do magic again if it means she can never have to hear your name again."_

"_Indeed? And how, pray tell, has she informed you of these wishes?"_

"_I believe she has recently been studying dream magic my Lord. She has had books on the subject for a least the last two terms and three nights ago she came to me while I was sleeping. Such an impertinent little mudblood. A grievous invasion of privacy which she refused to apologise for. Apparently she is desperate to leave the magical world behind, in spite of her treasured friends being well ensconced within it."_

"_Interesting. Very interesting. Well, if she is removed from the wizarding world, that is of little consequence to me but perhaps we can use this connection for her to deliver Potter to us without even knowing she did so."_

_Severus smirked as he watched Tom Riddle's mind work. Before him was the consummate Slytherin. He loathed the man's politics, ideals, moods and unstable soul and mind but watching him plot and scheme was quite the show._

"_What do you have in mind, my Lord?" Severus asked._

"_Suggest that Potter goes with her and perhaps only one or two Order members. He is still in seclusion behind the blood magic of his family. That will change soon but not soon enough. You said there was a plan to move Potter to a safe house. When is that?"_

"_Within the month, my Lord though I do not know the specifics. My sources are reluctant to share information since Dumbledore's death."_

"_There are ways to deal with reluctant sources, Ssseverusss. Am I incorrect in my belief that you are a strong master of legilimency, a skilled master of potions who can create vertia-serum? Not to mention casting the imperious curse to expel the answers from an unknowing mind. Press your sources for that information and suggest to the mudblood that in a 'letting it slip' way that I am aware of the Orders plans. The members will begin to suspect each other and will want Potter out of the way to keep him safe."_

_Severus could see many holes in this idea, not least of which the blood loyalty oath that the Order members swore when joining; it was only that the unbreakable vow Albus had tied him to overrode the blood loyalty oath that he was still alive himself. Then there was the fact that the planned date to move Potter was already set in stone by Moody and it was a good one… seven Potters… Merlin, have mercy! _

_Nevertheless, it was a lucky turn of events that allowed him to still keep the journal concealed, despite Bella's niggling presence. She was like a damn mosquito. No one was the wiser about his true connection to Hermione, although bringing her parents into his explanations would make him look rather guilty in the next few days but it was of little consequence at the moment. The calling range of the Dark Mark would not reach Australia so he would be safe for a little while; his very reliable source would keep him abreast of the situation via a muggle mobile phone charmed to work around magic and he would make sure Hermione's muggle parents were safe and she was well-hidden before returning to the Dark Lord with the only explanation possible; that the little Gryffindor witch had managed to lose him in Austria._

"_Your plan sounds very astute, my Lord. I shall begin preparations immediately."_

"_Very well, Sssseverussss. Dissssmissed."_

* * *

The rest of Severus's day was spent setting up a false trail to Austria for the Dark Lord to follow whilst altering the plans he had already installed for the trip to Australia. A portkey would transport four people to Austria as the Voldemort had requested, the fourth would just be himself rather than Potter; not that the ambush that was set up to take Potter would know that, nor would the Order. Polyjuice was a very useful tool.

The next morning Severus awoke early and wrote to Granger, explaining only that a plan was in place for moving her parents to safety. It would be easier to intimidate the full details to her in person once her parents were obliviated. As he had done all of this for her benefit, she would have very little cause to argue with his methods of subterfuge to ensure their safety. Not to mention the additional shit he would be in with Voldemort for the betrayal – although he hoped to play it all off as Hermione and Harry giving everyone the slip.

He had started to enjoy writing to her, in spite of his grim determination to deny it even to himself. She stood up to his sarcasm with an admirable amount of her own and it even seemed like she might be flirting with him a little in small doses. He had seen this before, of course. Students were often drawn to his dark nature, his dark magic and fancied themselves a little dark and naughty themselves if they fantasised about him. However, with Miss Granger's almost imperceptible flirtations came a level of care and understanding that scared him half to death. She had a heart as big as anyone he had ever met and he was afraid he would crush it if he let her get truly attached.

He determined to speak to her about it when they met up the next day even as the words he wrote to her betrayed that determination. He was being witty, playful, even charming, were it not for his constant snark. He shook his head as if disappointed in whoever had written such codswallop and tapped his wand to the page to forward it to the ever more intriguing Miss Granger.

Severus checked the journal twice in the next ten minutes to see if she'd replied before realising he was acting like a besotted teenager and went to the Great Hall for breakfast. The castle was still his home after all, even if it was at the bequest of Lord Nose-less.

After forty-seven minutes, two scalding black coffees and a single slice of toast, he returned to his rooms behind the gargoyle once more; unable to resist checking the diary even if he did manage to slow his steps from an almost jog to a hasty stride.

He entered his office and tightly warded the room so that no one could walk within ten feet of the place without setting off alerts _and_ remembering they had forgotten potions homework. He chuckled as he erected that one, having created it in his second year of teaching, it had proven most useful. He settled in his large, sumptuous, now-green-velvet desk chair and removed the journal from his desk to un-ward it. His chest gave an unexplainable lurch as he saw that she had replied.

_Dearest Severus (Teddy?) Snape,_

Snape rolled his eyes. The 'dearest' was new and managed to make his eyebrows reach into his hairline before the eye-roll. Perhaps she was just grateful for his help. He didn't really have a problem with her knowing his middle name; the problem was the questions that would come after that. He wasn't ready to go into the details of his father's abuse with anyone and as he was named after the bastard, that is where the conversation would inevitably lead. Especially with Miss Granger.

_Are you okay? I hate it when I don't hear from you. As much as I know you are probably absolutely fine and you wouldn't appreciate my concern, or at least not let me know you appreciate it, I do worry for you._

He sighed. He knew she meant well and that she wanted to help him feel like someone cared but the truth of it was that at the age of 38, having a seventeen year old girl being the only person to care for you felt kind of pathetic.

_Thank you so much for the trouble you have gone to in arranging such things for my parents. It means so much to me. Maybe one day, when this is all over, you'll let me take you out to dinner to say thank you properly? _

One questioning eyebrow quirked at these words. It sounded like quite the proposition she was offering. Exactly what that proposition was, he wasn't sure but he found himself not completely adverse to the idea. Of course he wouldn't let her know that. Yet. His face contorted into something resembling smugness that he was sure she would hate but at that moment he was rather proud of himself for possibly attracting a seventeen year old girl to have designs on him.

_Of course, it would be inappropriate as things are at the moment…_

The smugness dropped into a frown.

…_and would probably get us both killed but otherwise I think I'd like to at some point. _

"Fair point." He grumbled as he conceded her point under his breath.

_It might help you see me as a person and not a student too; although, I hope that has started already._

"Indeed it has, Miss Granger." He said quietly as he imagined her in a Slytherin green, strapless, silk dress that hugged curves he did not have accurate dimensions of.

_As to my feelings for Harry and Ron… there is absolutely nothing to worry about in either case. Their romantic interests lay elsewhere; in fact, with each other._

"Oh really? I did not see that coming. Well, maybe I did. A little…."

'No I can't even lie to myself on that one I did not see it coming. Although, _if_ I decide to pursue Miss Granger after the war – Merlin, what am I thinking? I suppose I could do worse… she's young, fit, intelligent. Oh fuck it! – _When_ I decide to pursue Miss Granger after the war at least the dunderheaded duo will not be a romantic obstacle.'

_I have been entrusted with this confidence and I do not believe they intend to make it public knowledge until after the war and that is only if they both survive; which given whom one of them is, is most definitely not assured; as much as I hate to face it._

"Another fair point." He conceded, less grumbly than the last one.

_The 25 points you took from Gryffindor, as I'm sure I don't need to tell you but I haven't ranted in at least a week and it needs letting out, were completely bogus. _

Severus simply smirked at her indignance, pleased with himself that he had successfully riled the little witch.

_I am of age, not in school and grieving so you can take those points you gave to Slytherin and shove them somewhere so tight even your wand wouldn't fit. Rant over!_

"My, my… Miss Grang… erm… Hermione… Her-my-o-nee."

'Interesting name. Interesting language. Very interesting location for her to think of putting points.'

_Now about this Russeve Neaps person, I am not as dense as to not recognise an anagram so thank you. Your great uncle must be a very special man and I would like to give _him_ a very big hug for what _he_ has done for me._

"Damn know it all."

_I won't of course but please make sure _he_ knows that it is there in thought. _

Severus's heart melted a little at her obvious affection for '_his Great Uncle'_ and his eyes looked heaven-ward.

"This girl is going to be the death of me."

_I look forward to meeting Snow and seeing you tomorrow evening. I miss everyone terribly being stuck at home; my grumpy ex-Potions Professor included._

He snorted once more as he stifled a burst of laughter whilst trying to avoid and deny another clenching sensation somewhere inside his ribcage.

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione J Granger._

"Ah, so you are bringing your middle name into play. We'll just see about that…" he said to himself as he summoned her file from the cabinet at the end of Albus's old bookcase. He opened the file to first page and his eyes scanned over the first line…

**Name: Hermione Jean Granger**

"A-ha. So its Jean is it? Very muggle, very traditional. No wonder your keep that quiet."

A rather devious grin played on his lips as he scanned the page for other interesting little tidbits he could discover about the girl.

**Date of Birth: 19****th**** September 1979; Age: 18 years, 109 days.**

"That's not right. She shouldn't be eighteen for another two months at least. Why is she almost six months older than she should be? Maybe I'll ask her tomorr…; oh of course. The time turner in her third year. Damn know-it-all; just had to take all eleven bloody elective. Oh the paperwork we all had to sign. Ugh!"

'What else is there here? Let's see…'

**Blood status: Other (See notes)**

Severus stared in shock for a moment. The girl was a muggleborn. He remembered McGonagall coming back from meeting the Granger's and saying how delightful they had all been; he remembered saying Hermione's accidental magic was extremely advanced at that the girl had reminded her of herself as a child. He also remembered Albus saying to him how pleased he was that Harry had made friends with a muggleborn girl as it cemented his allegiance to helping defend against Voldemort's prejudice hippogriff dung.

He scrambled through the sheets of parchment for the notes on the last few pages.

**February 1993: Blood status is not recognisable as pure, mixed or muggle. During Miss Granger's second year she was hospitalised after a wildlife/polyjuice incident and blood was taken to be tested. The 'type' of magic was not on record as ever being through Hogwarts or St Mungo's.**

**May 1993: Patient petrified. Later discovered to be by a basilisk, through the reflection of a mirror. Blood sample difficult to obtain due to petrification but retrieved after mandrake administered. Blood showed stronger magic from earlier in the year.**

He read on through four other instances of Poppy taking blood samples from Hermione and each time her magic had grown exponentially which would have been natural in small increments, even doubling in a year of extreme magical growth but this was growing by almost twenty times on an annual basis.

Severus shook his head in disbelief and awe as he re-read the words before placing the file back in the cabinet manually and warding it for security. He needed to finish reading her letter but before doing so he set a magical mental note to ask her about this tomorrow or the coming days he would be with her.

_P.S. Smirking is an art form taught only to Slytherins and as you are the consummate Slytherin, my dear Professor, I have no doubt that you smirk at anything which makes you feel superior. Considering you are superior at a great many things, your smirk should be a permanent fixture. _

A smile graced the dour Headmaster's features, softer than anyone had seen since he was a child and a tear trickled from his eye as it truly dawned on him that this powerful, enigmatic, riddle of a girl truly understood him.

"Poor girl." He whispered, closing his eyes and warding the journal once more.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter notes, hmmmm… what to say, what to say… my evil Slytherin witch cliff-hangers are back. **_***Bellatrix-style cackle***_**.**

**Love and Blessings. Please review.**

**Moon Out! x**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello my lovelies. It has been too long since I gave you a dose of Sevione in this little fic. Well, I am back, levelling up my chapters to an even number so I can sleep tonight. My only excuse for my absence is a cross between working on another fic – Sevione also – back on the Priestesses of H.I.S.S. profile and trying to keep up with the fics of other Coven members. I am not the fastest reader, or writer so you get this as it comes unfortunately.**

**I would like to give huge, huge thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and left me wonderful comments and reviews. I could not write without you as you are all an inspiration; when my muse takes a day off (six days a week), y'all (I've been so much time talking with ladies of the Southern states) fill in for her beautifully.**

**Nothing below should need a trigger warning unless playing Scrabble gives you nightmares. Also lemon free for the foreseeable future unless someone decides to break character and randomly snog their ex-potions professor without warning.**

**Well, I suppose I should let you read now… Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 8

Hermione awoke on Friday morning with a lump in her stomach the size of a Quidditch pitch. So much was about to change that she wasn't quite sure how to handle herself or the hours of waiting that were still to come - the hours of longing to see that Severus truly was okay; the hours of dreading the moment her wand removed herself from her parents lives and sent them packing off to Australia.

Padding, bleary eyed, to the bathroom down the hall, she replayed the plan that she had formulated last night; at about 3am when she couldn't sleep for worrying and fretting about all that was to come. It was a hard decision to make but in the end…

'_I'm just going to have to be honest with them.' _She thought as she brushed her teeth._ 'I can't lie to them about something this monumental to their lives, no matter how much I want to protect them, I have to tell them. I'll have Snape to back me up for how importance their concealment is.'_

She used the toilet, wondering about the best way to break the news to her parentsbefore turning on the shower to let it run warm and stepped in. The steaming deluge cascaded over her body and eased the tired muscles and weary mind.

'_Should I just tell them straight what's going to happen? Should I ease into it? Do I get Snape to do it for me? No! Definitely not that. This is my problem; he has enough of his own. How do I even begin to do this? How can I basically banish my parents from my life with perhaps no hope of them returning…?'_

At this thought, she slid down the shower wall, bringing her hands to her face, her knees to her chin and wept silent tears under the obscuring flow from the showerhead above. It felt like all she did these days was cry and knowing that it would get absolutely nothing done for her to wallow in fear and self-pity, she allowed herself just a few minutes to let out her emotions before locking them up tight behind those natural shields against empathy and sympathy before standing up and rinsing herself off with a hard, determined look in her eyes.

There was no time to get all girly and weepy about her life. She was stuck on this path now with Harry and Ron whether she liked it or not and there was no turning back. Harry's life, her freedom and the well-being of the wizarding world was at stake and she would fight like the lioness she was; give Severus as little burden as possible whilst trying to ease his mind and heal his heart. However right now, she needed to spend the day with her parents as it seemed it was the last time she was going to see them for at least a good, long while.

…

Breakfast was a quick affair, much to Hermione's chagrin. She had dressed in a pale green cotton sundress after her shower, applied light make up and charmed the puffiness from her eyes. For some inexplicable reason, she felt the need to look nice today – she refused to acknowledge that she did so in order to appeal to Snape, even though she pictured his expression when he saw her as she applied a 'nude' colour lip-gloss. When she'd arrived at the kitchen table, her parents had just finished their Weetabix; her Mum was washing up and her Dad was pulling on his shoes.

"Where are you going? I thought you had Fridays off?" Hermione asked of her father, a little panicked.

"Oh we do, sweetheart. Your father is just popping to Asda for a few things." Her Mum answered.

"Oh. Good." Hermione said, sighing with relief as her shoulders visibly slumped and she had to hold back joyful tears.

"You seem pleased about that, pumpkin. Do you wanna come with me?"

"No, that's ok. I was thinking we could set up the old scrabble board and have a tournament like we used to. What do you think? We could ask Uncle Max as well"

"That sounds like a fun morning." Her father said with a smile; he missed his daughter when she was off at that bloody school and was glad she wanted some family time. "Moira, love, why don't you phone Max; see if he wants to bring Nyx and Elena round."

"Will do hun," His wife said, walking over to peck him on the cheek.

"Make sure they leave that damn dog at home though Mum. Last time he almost killed Crookshanks."

Hermione's Uncle Max had had a black retriever for as long as she could remember and for some reason, it always reminded her of Padfoot. The last thing she needed today was more tears over missing Sirius but Crookshanks was a convenient excuse… even if he could take care of himself.

"I think I will come with you Dad. If we're having a family party, I need to get snacks."

Grabbing her wand and summoning her purple beaded bag from her bedroom, she headed out the door with her dad, warding the house behind her. Hermione figured if her dad was out in the world, he was more likely to be attacked than her home.

* * *

As midday rolled around, the dining room table was set up for a six-player game of Scrabble. Despite there only being four-tile racks per game Uncle Max had brought the extras as well as his own bag of tiles. Elena complained that two bags of tiles made the game too easy but as Hermione had been the undefeated champion for more years than they could remember, the nine-year-old's protests went mainly ignored.

"So…" Hermione began, as she started the first game off with the word 'EXTENDS' using all of her tiles, "Where are you off to for date night, tonight Mum?"

"Oh, well I was thinking… since we have a house full tonight, we could stay in and order a curry. That's if Max and Nyx want to stay for dinner?" Moira Granger asked her brother hopefully.

"Sounds great, sis. We can make this a real tournament." He said excitedly, as he used the 'S' of Hermione's word to place 'SUBTLE' down as his go.

Hermione had lost concentration on the game and the conversation as her mind whirled with how to get out of this pickle. A house elf was due in just over six hours, followed by Severus Snape, who as far as her parents were concerned, was the man responsible for killing the Headmaster of her school and running with Voldemort's very prejudiced band of evil, dark bastards. She had to get to the journal. She needed to try and postpone Snape or somehow work out how to empty the house.

"Are you with us, sweetheart? It's your turn." Came her father's voice.

"Oh, sorry. I guess my mind drifted off to school work. Erm…"

Hermione studied the board for a moment and looked back to her tiles several times before. It seemed that someone had placed 'STOPPED', using her original 'D' and so on their first 'P' she placed the tiles to spell 'POTION'.

Moira and Jonathan shared a concerned look before their eyes both landed on Hermione, who shrugged and mumbled something about a TV show called 'Charmed'.

The game continued for an hour. Uncle Max got the highest word score, catching a triple letter square at the start of the word 'ZOOLOGIST' but Hermione had still won, making everyone else mumble about her being a walking dictionary.

"Well, I'm not taking your abuse anymore," she said with a smile. "I'm going to read chapter 'Z' of my dictionary so I can thrash you all again later."

Her family burst out laughing as she made a swift exit to her bedroom and pulled the Journal-de-Billow from her extended bag.

* * *

_Dear Professor,_

_Are you okay? _

_I'm sorry this is such short notice but we many have a slight problem. My Uncle Max and his family have come round for a 'family game day' and are staying for dinner. As it's usually my parent's date night I had no way of seeing this ahead of time. Do we need to reschedule? I can try to get rid of them but I don't really want to as I have no idea how long it's going to be until I see them again; if at all._

_You might just need to be quick on the draw with your wand when you arrive. I suppose that's never been a problem for you. Thinking back to your duel demonstration with Lockhart; you had him on his arse so fast my breath caught in my throat._

_Please respond ASAP; I'm going crazy._

_Love Hermione._

In her haste and worry, she tapped her wand to send the message without re-reading her words. It was only after her sign off had magically been sent with her desperate pleas to Snape that she realised what she'd written – 'LOVE'. Her shortest and most pointed word of the day had just left her quill and she now worried her bottom lip and prayed that it wouldn't lose her an entirely different game.

"Cup of tea, darling…?" Her mother's voice echoed up the stair and through her closed door.

"Coming, Mum." She bellowed back, still staring at her words in shock.

'_Please. Please don't let him think I mean it. Not like that, anyway. Not like the way I really do mean it.'_

* * *

Severus had spent the morning with his non-Dumbledore-approved contact with the Order – Mundungus Fletcher - who had chosen to order four cups of tea (all of which he laced with fire-whiskey), a bacon and egg sandwich and two custard slices; all on Snape's tab at the café which connected Knockturn Alley with Diagon Alley. The owner Maximus Žiga was, to the entire world, of muggle descent but was left alone by the Death Eaters as he had proved his magical worth by catering to their hungry bellies after their days of torturing and murder without even a raised eyebrow in question or judgement. He neither fought with or against either side of the war; he just baked his wares and sold them to all.

Severus had informed Mundungus that there was a plan in place to attack the Grangers; that Draco Malfoy had idiotically sent her threatening letters to scare her and 'let it slip' that the attack would be imminent. It would be in the Order's best interests to write to Miss Granger and let her know that the attack was at least four days away and no solid plans had been formed as to how she or her parents would be ambushed.

He returned to the school just in time to feel his journal warm up in his pocket. He settled himself behind his desk, summoned Snow for tea and just as she popped away again, retrieved the warm leather from his inside pocket.

_Dear Professor,_

_Are you okay? _

_I'm sorry this is such short notice but we many have a slight problem. My Uncle Max and his family have come round for a 'family game day' and are staying for dinner. As it's usually my parent's date night I had no way of seeing this ahead of time. Do we need to reschedule? I can try to get rid of them but I don't really want to as I have no idea how long it's going to be until I see them again; if at all._

"Shit. Why on earth did that old coot think I could deal with her without losing my mind?"

'_I swear I'll get him for this when I get to hell. Hopefully I get to be in charge of a scalding hot poker.'_

_You might just need to be quick on the draw with your wand when you arrive. I suppose that's never been a problem for you. _

Snape smirked, his frown melting away at the compliment of his wand work.

_Thinking back to your duel demonstration with Lockhart; you had him on his arse so fast my breath caught in my throat._

He chuckled to himself at that. The fickle hearts of teenage girls were usually an annoyance to him; especially when he thought about Lily, but if that duel had turned Miss Granger's young wandering eye from the bumbling buffoon then Severus really couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but smug over the task.

_Please respond ASAP; I'm going crazy._

Tutting, he let his eyes slide to the last line and all sights, sounds and bodily functions ceased in an instant; his breath caught, his heart stilled and his mind froze.

_Love Hermione._

It took a full minute before the word truly sunk into his psyche. As he pulled back from the shock and his body began to function once more, he rationalised quickly that she didn't mean it; couldn't possibly mean it; that it must have been a reflex. Minerva used to sign her letters to him 'Love Minnie x'; that didn't mean she… _'Merlin forbid'_.

A shudder passed through him at the very thought but he gathered his wits and decided to ignore the girl's affectionate slip. Choosing a fine white peacock quill, which had been a gift from Narcissa last Yule, he began to write.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Do not become anxious with this obstacle to our plans. It is merely additional people to obliviate. I will do so for you, if you feel unable. I suggest dosing your family with a sleeping draught in preparation for the Obliviation. It will stop awkward questions and possible disagreements. I will include a small vial with this missive; did you know the journal could transport small items through it like a portal? _

_Our plans have not changed and I will inform you in more detail once we arrive, the portkey is set up for 9.30pm so if you need to pack any of your parents things for them to take with them, you will have a little time to do so. Not too much though; no personal items as it could trigger a lapse in memory._

_Until later._

_Severus._

The Hogwarts Headmaster summoned a vial of sleeping draught from his bedside table, and placed it over his words before tapping the page with his wand and watching the slim bottle melt into the parchment.

"Until later…" He said softly, and closed the journal.

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it, another chapter complete. I'd like to say 'Welcome to the world of AYO' to my first Coven OC to physically make it into this fic, Nyxx. Obviously, Snow, Dash and Claw are already mentioned, but you got an appearance first which is my little way of saying thank you for your help with this chapter. It pays to be the first one awake – lol!**

**Once more, a massive thank you to my followers and reviewers. I appreciate it more than you know.**

**Love and Blessings**

**Moon Out! x**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello my darling readers. It has been too long since I was here with you and this very deep and anguished Sevione. There are little moments of humour at the beginning but I will add a warning in a moment. I wish to say thank you everyone for being patient in waiting for this… there are epic plots beginning here and I had to get them straight in my mind before I committed them to the fic. Thank you for hanging in there if you have come back and please leave a review if you are enjoying this story.**

**WARNING – This chapter has death, grieving and loss in it. If these things affect you on a personal level please only read up to the second grey line.**

* * *

There were certain things Hermione had learned from being the best friend of a boy who had a madman trying to kill him and the most important of those things was to follow her instinct. If the air suddenly crackled with something foreboding and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled to attention, something unpleasant was about to happen. It was a sixth sense she had picked up over the years; a warning system that dark magic was approaching and as she heard the tell-tale pop of apparition but no materialisation outside the living room window where she had been staring for ten minutes trying to think of a plan, her skin puckered with goose flesh and her stomach tightened with the feeling of more impending doom – another sure sign that nothing good was about to happen.

It seemed time had ran out and she had to go with the only plan she had managed to formulate… getting her family out of the way and away from the magic. She could defend herself and maybe her parents; her shield charms had got impressively strong, even if she did say so herself. But her uncle, aunt and niece knew nothing of magic and the shock at seeing spells flying around, not to mention what the spells themselves could do, Hermione was sure would cost them their lives.

"Uncle Max…" she began, a little too cheerfully, "Do you fancy making a snacks run? I've ran out of Pringles and you know I can't play without my Sour Cream and Chive Pringles."

Max had a strange look on his face when he met her eyes – a cross between exasperation, which she expected but also fear – she dismissed it. He'd always been perceptive and a little empathic; perhaps he was picking up on her disguised but raging panic. She watched him shake himself out of whatever he had on his mind and address her as he usually did.

"H, you're not a kid anymore, why don't you take the car and pick up your Pringles; I'm getting too old to…"

"Pleeeease Uncle Max," She whined, playing her puppy eyes card and the fact she'd always been his favourite niece, "They always taste better when you get them."

It was manipulation 101 but Hermione refused to feel guilty; she was saving his life and that of his wife and…

"Aren't you taking Nyx and Elena?" She asked when he'd headed straight for the door and they hadn't moved.

"I'll be quicker on my own; then I can get back and trounce you at another game. I know it's five-nil to you but I will get you back."

"It's almost six though and it's getting dark; please don't go on your own." Worry had etched into her voice, both genuine and exaggerated for a stronger affect and the adults all shared a knowing look which irritated Hermione.

"I'll be fine H, I promise."

Just as she was considering just blowing her secret and explaining she had to get them out of the house to save their lives, her cousin piped up.

"Daddy, I'll come with you. I want to get the new Smash Hits magazine; I'm bored of Scrabble and my favourite singer is on the front cover this month."

Max shared another look with his wife. Hermione was starting to think there was something she didn't know. Always the know it all, she planned to question her family and find out what was going on when all of whatever was about to happen was over.

"Okay pumpkin, come on." Max said to his daughter before turning to his wife, "Love, you might as well come as well… I know you're already thinking up at list of things we need."

Nyx stood and kissed her husband's cheek. "You know me so well."

As soon as the family of three had departed; Uncle Max's Vauxhall Astra speeding toward Asda, Hermione turned to her parents…

"We're about to be attacked." She shrieked. "I can feel strong magic near my wards and it's getting closer."

Jonathan and Moira Granger looked out of the window but couldn't see anything at all. They looked at their daughter confused before her father spoke.

"Sweetheart, there's no one outside. Come on; let's make a cup of tea." He said, putting his arm around her as his wife slipped upstairs without a word.

"No dad. I can't explain how I know but I just do. I need to alert Se… erm… someone in the Order and then I can apparate us out of here. Give me 2 minutes."

Hermione slipped into the bathroom and pulled the journal from where she had it secured to her stomach with a sticking charm and wedged in the waistband of her jeans. Panic was rising more steadily now that at least half of her family was safe but there was still more to do.

She opened the journal to the next empty page and began to mentally inscribe the words she needed to say. In the down time she had had waiting for something to happen she had invented, practiced and perfected a wordless, wandless charm that would allow her to project her thoughts onto the parchment without writing them physically, very useful in a bind; like now.

_Severus…_

_About to be attacked, I can feel it. Please come quick. I need you._

As she was about to sign her name, a terrible crashing noise came from beyond the door and she knew her wards and the front door had been broken down by force and any number of Death Eaters had just broken into her home. Knowing her mum was safe upstairs for at least a few minutes, she was just about to apparate out of the bathroom when her father's voice caused her to pause…

* * *

_Fifteen minutes earlier… outside…_

Fenrir Greyback had never been one for apparition; he preferred to transform, as he could do so at will, being an Alpha, and run to his destination, the wind in his fur and the feel of the earth underpaw. However, as he was with the impulsive and newly turned Antonin Dolohov, instant materialisation was more convenient.

With the slightest pop he could manage, he landed on the muggle street, disillusioned alongside his new beta companion. He sniffed the air, catching the most delicious scent on its particles that his heightened senses had ever experienced. Hermione Granger was, as far as anyone was concerned, a muggleborn and Greyback had smelled, bitten and killed muggle-borns before on the orders of Lord Voldemort but there was something very different about this one. She smelled of old magic, distant magic, unwavering waves of potential, there was a muskiness to her scent that was only ever present in women, a lightness which he attributed to whatever fragrance she wore – he couldn't discern such things – floral was about all he could narrow down.

His companion was also sniffing the air and from the feral look on his face, Dolohov had also picked up on the enticing aroma of their prey. Their plan was simple… kill her parents, infect her with lycanthropy and claim her together as a triad… thus breaking down the Golden Trio whom had thwarted their Dark Lord for too long. However, given the girl's 'mudblood' status, Voldemort and all of the other Death Eaters had veto'd the werewolves plans and so they had attacked. Lucius's life was hanging on by a thread, thanks to a deep bite to his carotid artery, Bellatrix had lost an eye to a stray claw slash and Rabastan was, well never going to get 'excited' again, thanks to another stray slash of claws.

Greyback and Dolohov had apparated out of the chaos and landed directly outside the home of their prey thanks to a wonderful little tip off coming from Mundungus Fletcher. He'd only asked from 10 galleons for the information…

"Eto byla spravedlivaya tsena." Dolohov stated to his Alpha with the feral gleam still in his eye. He had a habit of slipping back into his native tongue when he was either hungry or ready to rut.

"Speak English, pup." Greyback growled.

"The information… we got a fair price." The Russian reiterated in English.

"Bargain." He growled again, although more so in lust than in frustration this time. "Mmmmm, Can you smell her, pup?"

"Tak okherenno sladko," The Russian answers, practically salivating, sensing her heart rate increase.

"English… pup," Greyback snarls, slapping Dolohov across the back of his head.

Antonin scowls at his Alpha but is sufficiently chastised to translate.

"So fucking sweet… I want to taste her… take her…."

"Wait your turn pup. She's mine first. When I'm done with her, you can dip your wick."

Antonin just growled in response causing his alpha to chuckle sinisterly at the pup's impatience. The newly turned were always chomping at the bit. Curbing his appetite would take work.

"Patience, pup. You'll get your fun. Listen… can you here that? Girly knows we're here. Probably not who exactly but she knows someone is here for her. Listen to that heart rate, smell that…? Adrenaline. Fear. She's panicking, sweating. She'll taste all the sweeter for it… my friend."

"Can we go in now? She smells so fucking good I don't think I can wait longer."

"Let's g-… No! Wait. Look! Someone's leaving."

The two werewolves watched as a man, woman and young girl about nine years old stepped out of the large, detached, rurally set home. The man looked around cautiously as his wife and daughter got into the car; it seemed as if he looked right at them, a grimace on his face before slipping into the driver's seat, revving up the engine and pulling away.

"Was that…?" Greyback began, never having met the man but smelling a familiar scent.

"Žiga!" Antonin interrupted. "How the fuck does he know Potter's mudblood?"

"Let's go find out…" Fenrir growled, heading for the door.

* * *

Hermione could hear the thuds and banging of a fight; shouting and an ominous crack of something distinctly bone like hitting a wall from the other side of the bathroom door. There was the familiar sound of spells being cast from wands… two different languages and a terrifying growl; just as she headed for the door, she heard the bathroom door lock and her father's voice; she knew it was a father's voice but the words were beyond her comprehension. Something European maybe.

"_Dragoste, suntem sub atac. Luminoasӑ are nevoie de puterile ei acum."_

"What the fuck?" Hermione responded as she slid the latch from its holder locking the door and turned the handle. She pulled.

Nothing happened. The door remained in place.

She tugged harder as she heard another voice in the kitchen… Dolohov? She'd heard that voice in her nightmares since the night at the Department of Mysteries – nightmares that usually resulted in her dying. "Well, not today!" She announced to the door in all her glory, and began to concentrate her magic into a large, tight ball of energy… her plan being to blast her way out of the door.

She took aim; the door was only wood, it had no chance against an energy ball fuelled by fear and love and Gryffindor courage. As it was a second from release, a long slim light glowed to her right and she lost her concentration, the energy ball evaporating between her fingers.

"Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?" Hermione fired off angry questions, seething at how this being, whatever it was, was taking time away from her rescuing her parents.

The light faded and her mother stood before her.

"Sweetheart, there's no time to explain. The wolves can't get you. If they do, your war is lost. Your father will lay down his life for you, just as I will but first you must receive your inheritance…"

"Mum, what are you talking about? How did you get in here?"

"There's no time sweetheart. Max will explain everything. Take this…" Hermione's mum handed her a chain with a large amethyst pendant attached, "wear it and feel its power, my power. Let it in."

Hermione put the chain around her neck and as the large, cool slice of diamond shaped amethyst touched her skin, Moira Granger vanished from before her daughter's eyes in a brilliant white glowing light that swirled around the young witch coating her slim body in the same luminous glow before entering the purple stone with a flourish.

Hermione could feel her mother's spirit or soul or power against her collarbone. The warmth of her love and then there was more… her grandmother and great grandmothers, aunts and cousins and sisters, all females, centuries of her ancestors pooling their power and concentrating it in this one crystal, passing it on to the next generation; forwarding their magic through the crystal and into Hermione.

She dizzied and felt nauseous with the power of it; having to steady herself against the porcelain rim of the bathroom sink. As energy and magic swirled through her body, her mind and her soul, fusing and connecting to everything she had ever been, everything she ever could be, Hermione swayed and dropped to the floor, flat on her back. The last think she heard was the lock of the bathroom door, click.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure how long she was unconscious but when she came around, before even opening her eyes, she felt herself pinned down by a lot of pressure on her wrists as they were placed behind her head and the unpleasant breath breathing down on her.

She could tell from the slighter frame pressed against her that it had to be Dolohov rather than Greyback. She remembered that Greyback was huge and feral; Dolohov in the old wanted posters was slick, greasy, wiry. It turned her stomach that he was so close but she knew she couldn't think about that if she was going to survive.

The swirling energy that swam through her had settled some but she could still feel it vibrating through her magic. 'Good', she thought, 'I'm going to need you.'

She could still hear a commotion coming from beyond the bathroom… her father? And… well if it was werewolves it had to be Greyback. She couldn't understand how her father was keeping the most notorious werewolf of all time in the wizarding world at bay but as a surge of power flooded her synapses and veins, she knew it was time to act. Her, apparently magical ancestors were urging her on to do something and suddenly the answer was upon her as a memory flashed in her mind of an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

Tom had managed to procure magic to become rather bigger than Butch the Bulldog and thus able to overpower him. Hermione concentrated hard on her animagus form – she had turned into a lioness three times now under Minerva's tutelage and it was time to do so again – alone. But Hermione knew she wasn't really alone; she had her family, nestled right against her heart. She focused on being bigger and more powerful; she pictured giant claws and the sharpest razor-pointed teeth, humongous paws and ancient power; golden fur and thick haunches… and finally with a scream that turned into a deep resonant growl, startling her captor and throwing him back against his partner, Hermione's body erupted into its new form and stood before the two werewolf Death Eaters and her own father as a Sphinx.

Her eyes narrowed on Greyback as her large, right, golden furred paw came up, crossing her body, claws out to swipe Dolohov out of her way; the point of her 'index' claw connecting with his throat shamelessly. Dolohov grasped at proceeding wound, spluttering something that if translated would be akin to calling her a bitch.

"Ya ubezhden, ty idiot, dvornyaga. Ty suka. Greybak suka. Po krayney mere, u menya byla obshchaya lyubeznost', chtoby izbavit' vas ot vashikh stradaniy." She said coldly, a deep purr to her voice as she answered him in the conversational Russian she had learned over several summers and when she was done with her homework but needed a challenge. It was a hard language and she still wasn't completely fluent but it was enough to make her smirk at the look on his face.

He spluttered once more in shock at her knowledge of his mother tongue, twice, before the blood loss was too severe and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. His last thought that she would have made a most magnificent mate.

Hermione couldn't quite believe she'd just killed one of the most formidable and notorious Death Eaters in Voldemort's ranks. Not that he'd made it particularly difficult but without her family power she wasn't sure her regular lioness form would have been enough. However, her Sphinx form took up half the kitchen and she couldn't have been more grateful as her eyes returned to Greyback and her father.

In the moment Hermione's attention was taken up with Dolohov's final demise and her glee at finally getting her revenge for Department of Mysteries attack, both Jonathan Granger and Fenrir Greyback acted.

Greyback's fangs sunk into his opponent's neck, tearing at the muscle, tendon and sinew he found there just as his victim's hands wrapped around the werewolf's head and twisted as hard as his magic infused muscles would allow. The two fell against each other, before the shifting weight made both clatter to the floor with a resounding double thud.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Hermione wailed, as she shrunk back into human form and ran to her father's body, pulling him to her, sobbing as the whole world faded from her mind and she felt truly alone.

* * *

Severus Snape had spent most of the day in his office, doing what he did when he was nervous. Pacing. So many things could go wrong with his plan for Miss Granger and her family. Voldemort could double cross him, as he was double crossing back; the Order could get wind of the real plan; Hermione could tell her parents the truth. There were just so many possible problems, pitfall and possibilities that his brain ached and his shoulders tensed with the enormity of it all.

He had just poured himself a long glass of firewhiskey to steady his nerves; not that he would ever admit that's what it was for but the time was drawing close to when he would see her as himself, for the first time since all this journal malarkey had started. There had been banter and he was sure, flirting, from his ex-student and it was something he was not used to or comfortable with and so in spite of himself he had tried on three different sets of his signature black robes… various amounts and rows of buttons – a charcoal hue, rather than midnight and in the end, in an effort to perhaps slightly lift the darkness of his image to her, he had added an emerald green handkerchief in his top pocket.

At 6.05pm just as he was about to dress himself in the robes he had finally chosen, two things happened simultaneously… his arm burned with a call from the Dark Lord and his journal heated in the secret pocket of his black waistcoat. Knowing Hermione was probably just confirming he was still planning to arrive and knowing he could not ignore a summons from Voldemort, he apparated directly to Malfoy Manor and into a scene of utter devastation.

"Ah, Severussss. It seems we have traitorsssss in our midsssst. The wolf and his new pup Dolohov have taken a liking to Potter's mudblood and decided to make her their mate."

"My Lord?" Severus questioned, finding the idea quite unbelievable as he took in his surroundings. There was blood everywhere but they were alone.

"As you sssssee, there was quite the ssssskirmissssh. Lucccciusss may not survive; Rabasssstan may not want to and Belllllla is being nursed by the housssse elvessss having losssst an eye."

"And this was Greyback? And Dolohov?" Severus asked, for confirmation of who he was about to kill. The Dark Lord would obviously want the usurpers punished and probably killed but if they got near Hermione, Severus would kill them for his own reasons.

Voldemort nodded his head slightly, granting the confirmation and acting surprisingly calmly considering what had happened. Severus couldn't help but wonder why.

"Take care of thisssss, Sssseverussss. I do not want them interfering with my planssss for Potter."

"You wish for the plans to still go ahead tonight, my Lord?" Anything to head this ridiculous idea off before it could make the situation worse.

"You question me, Ssssseverus?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes flashing with anger.

"No my Lord. Just seeking confirmation."

Again Voldemort nodded.

"Go!"

Not needing to be told twice, Severus apparated directly into the private alley Hermione had told him was always free of people that sat between her house and that of the neighbour, twenty five minutes earlier than he was due to arrive. He noted there were no windows on either house that looked onto the alley and it was indeed an ideal apparition spot, densely surrounded by shrubbery and wall.

Something seemed off as he walked out of the alley and around the wall to take the path to Hermione's house – something about the atmosphere. He could hear soft sobs and a strange magic thickened and charged the air – like electricity that crackled along his senses and the core of his magic. It got stronger as he came closer to the house and when he saw the front door had been blasted from its hinges, he surged forward, running through the doorway and into a silent living room. Memories flashed through his mind of sixteen years ago and the devastation of another house; the crippling fear of another witch's death.

The sobs grew louder as he neared the slightly ajar kitchen door; it was definitely Hermione's anguish he could hear and relief flooded him. He couldn't see her, hidden as she was by the dividing wall but hearing her meant she was alive and that was enough to calm him.

At that very moment, obviously sensing her master, Snow ran forward from the kitchen, having arrived only moments before him to see Hermione lunging at her father's body; she hugged Severus's leg, weeping herself as she clung to him in devastation.

"There is nothings I coulds have done Master Snape, sir. Nothings at all. Bloods and cryings and bodies, sir. Snow must clean up for Missy Žiga, sir."

Snape frowned at the name used by his elf. Surely she'd got the name wrong. Max Žiga was a muggleborn but as far as he knew had never met or been connected to Hermione. The greasy spoon he runs was too close to Knockturn for Hermione's innocence.

"Žiga?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, Master Snape, sir. Missy Žiga has strong magics sir. Gyyyyypsy magic." The elf said in wonder. "She be inherited from her mother who was matriarch of Žiga gypsies until she married Strega warlock. Snow can senses the power sir and recognises the Strega magic too sir. Elveses is born from Strega magics, sir."

Severus's mind was reeling with the new information and he struggled to secure his occlumency shields and focus on what was important right now… getting to Hermione.

"Stay with me Snow and show me where Miss Granger… erm… Miss Žiga is." Snape commanded softly of his elf.

"Yes sir." Snow replied with equal gentleness and led her master through to the kitchen.

Hermione held her father's head in her lap and both the volume of her sobs and the intensity of the electrical magic were stronger now. His heart ached for her at the image she made. He didn't think she had even registered his presence, which was so unlike her that he knew how deep in despair she was.

He was wrong however. Hermione had sensed him as soon as he apparated. She had felt his magic when it drew closer and now he was in the same room, it gave her a comfort he didn't even know he was offering. She pulled at his magic slightly; not so much that he would know but just for that little bit of stability to get her to accept her father's death.

She took a deep shuddering breath and with a wail as high pitched and chilling as a banshee, Hermione released her anguish, squeezing her father's body in a last embrace. Her eyes opened, blurred with the tears of her loss and she felt her amethyst pendant warm; a subtle push from her mother. She wiped her father's hair from his face and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"Goodbye." She whispered against his forehead as her last tears fell.

Severus knew it wasn't quite the moment to approach yet as he watched the tender moment pass. It took about thirty seconds after Hermione had kissed her father's forehead and stayed perfectly still and silent in the tableau of grief before it happened. The strange electrical energy – which Severus now believed to be Mr Granger's Strega magic, slowly drew itself toward the young witch on the floor and she absorbed it all like an energy vacuum before lifting her head to stare Severus directly in his moistened eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, the first thing I need to share with you is the translations so here we go…**

**Jonathan to Moira:**

"_Dragoste, suntem sub atac. Luminoasӑ are nevoie de puterile ei acum."_

Love, we're under attack. Bright one needs her powers, now.

**Hermione to Dolohov:**

"_Ya ubezhden, ty idiot, dvornyaga. Ty suka. Greybak suka. Po krayney mere, u menya byla obshchaya lyubeznost', chtoby izbavit' vas ot vashikh stradaniy."_

I'm of the feline persuasion, you idiot mongrel. You're the bitch. Greyback's bitch. At least I had the common courtesy to put you out of your misery.

**I think those are the only two that needed translation. If there are others let me know but as Greyback couldn't speak Russian, I think I cleverly got Dolohov to repeat himself in English for everything else.**

**A very special thank you to Nyxxi of The Coven and the PhoenixDragon111 profile here on FF, for her amazing support of being my go-to bounce ideas off person for this chapter and my Russian expert. Dash is completely obsessed with this story so I decided to let her be the surprised one for this chapter, even if she will kill me for killing Dolohov.**

**Love and Blessings until next time**

**Moon Out. x**


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